Twisted Fate
by Hitchhiker1
Summary: One little slip can make everything go horribly wrong for Goku before he arrives on Yardrat VK YAOI
1. Prologue

OK, my first fanfic! Let's get the formalities over with;

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of it's mine. THERE! I ADMIT IT! I own nothing!....except maybe Kaji, but then if I say that I own her I'm gonna have a paternally-protective saiyan no ouji on my tail and I'm honestly not THAT stupid.And I'm wasting hours on this when I should be out working... so I think it's safe to say I am making no money out of this. It is purely for the non-profit amusement of me and who-ever else chooses to read it!

Pairings; V/K (eventually), **THIS IS A YAOI PEOPLE!!! M/M SLASH!!! GET THAT THROUGH YOUR HEAD BEFORE READING!!!**

Summary: Things don't go quite as you'd expect for Goku before he arrives on Yardrat.

Warnings: This fic should work itself up to becoming an R, but it'll be NC17 at any site other than fanfiction .net (i'll cut the really citrusy bits out when i post on this site) so this thing is gonna contain the sort of stuff you really should keep lil kids away from (including unidentifiable pointy things, Kakkarot abuse, Vegeta, reference to rape, improper language from the beginning, angst, scheming Vegeta, hinted necrophilia, m/m lemons, dubious morals, more angst, Happy Vegetas, chibi-fluff, pissed off Saiyan Princes, Frieza baiting, Chichi's trusty sidekick the frying pan of doom ™, improper use of certain furry tail-like appendages, fluff, and did I mention Vegeta?)

I also need to warn everybody that this is my first fic, so be a little forgiving with any OCness or spelling monstrosities, with any luck I'll get the hang of it all before the end of the story! Constructive criticism is welcomed and will probably be needed, but flamers will only be laughed at -don't waste your time and mine.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo- page breaks/ change of perspective

(( Author butting in ))

::_Thoughts_::

"Speech"

Yay! Now that that's over- Let the fic-age begin! Would any homophobes please leave the set and would all yaoi-lovers out there help themselves to the free popcorn

Lights!

Camera!

**ACTION!**

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Prologue

Warnings 4 this chappie: Happy veggie (very freaky), bad language, melodramatic author and exploding planets.

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Recoome never really paid attention in technology briefings.

He was here to fight. Not think. A fact that greatly relieved most of his team mates. 

He got in the ship, the ship flew, he landed, he kicked butt.

What else did he fucking well need to know?

What was it to him if the stupid thing landed crooked? What did it matter to him if some crucial wiring in the engines had been damaged on impact? Undetectable and insignificant, he didn't even notice the extra bump on landing in his thrill for the upcoming battle. And of course, he didn't perform the mandatory overview on landing to check in case such things did occur. He really didn't give a fuck.

Besides, he wouldn't need the crappy thing again, once they'd recovered the dragon's balls or whatever it was, they were headed back in style on Frieza's mini-cruiser.

The stupid pods never worked properly anyway, they were all pointless flash and flair to go with The Captain's ego and near-to-nothing under the bonnet. Rather like the Cap'n in fact.

Well, it's not like that particular Ginyu member would be affected by his little botched landing. Despite his previous plans, he was kindly despatched to HFIL by his royal highness the Prince of Saiyans, and he is currently more worried about the big freaky ogres chasing him than the state of his old equipment.

Unfortunately those few loose wires are going to wreak havoc on the life of a certain ningen-raised super saiyan.

But, as I'm sure was mentioned, it's not like Recoome gave a fuck now did he?

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

On a small green and blue planet at the arse end of the cosmos, Vegeta Saiyan no Ouji, the one and only, was sitting beneath a tree smirking at his good fortune.

He should be dead. Dead and buried in a shallow grave on a dying planet.

Instead he had ended up on this vibrant little mudball with a load of weaklings, a brand new life to live, no malevolent master to abuse him and a really rather bright future ahead of him.

He still couldn't believe it. It was over. He was free.

He had to hold back this odd urge to, to _grin_.

Fuck it, the smile almost surfaced despite him, he had _survived. _

More than twenty years under that disgusting lizard may have, technically, been the death of him, yet here he was; alive. Again. His battered, blackened, ki-pierced heart beating reassuringly beneath his shattered armour.

He had survived the pain, the torture and the humiliations he'd been subjected to growing up under Frieza's thumb and here he was, stronger than he'd ever been and no one left to oppose him.

Now was the time to make a name for himself in the wake of the freak's death.

Now was the time to seize the power he had been born for. He could build himself an empire the likes of which the universe had never known...

He would make the universe remember the saiyans. A people who had fought and loved and died harder and more passionately than any other. His name would be said in fearful whispers across the galaxies, and sentient beings throughout the known universe would remember his race and cower. There was no way to bring back Vegeta-sei and his people, but he would make them known. He had once been a proud prince. He would be again.

Vegeta, proud saiyan no ouji.

The Prince of all Saiyans.

Hn.

That meant one.

_::...two I suppose_,:: he grudgingly thought, ::_if you can count the half-breed a saiyan.::_

He looked around indifferently, catching sight of said half-breed bent oversomething the ditzy blue haired one had put together; he racked his brains for what the screechy female had been going on about earlier... nonsense about helping travellers home or something absurd...

He snorted at their stupidity. Closing his eyes and leaning back against the tree he sat beneath.

Kakkarotto would not be coming home.

Kakkarot. The only living survivor of Vegeta's people, ningen-wannabe and all-round baka idiot; the renegade who was now probably the most powerful fighter in existence

::..._more powerful_,:: he thought, even more grudgingly, ::_than his prince. hmph.::_

The pitiful third-class, someone who didn't even _want_ to be saiyan, who didn't recognise the homage he should pay his prince, and steadfastly refused to give Vegeta the allegiance he was owed; the idea that this _traitor_ had somehow become the epitome of saiyan legend... well, it really rather annoyed him. Vegeta's royal blood, the only blood that was supposed to hold the key to becoming legendary, boiled at the thought of anyone being that much stronger than him. Particularly some peasant nobody.

But all that would soon be rectified.

The saiyan no ouji was confident in the fact that in a few minutes he would be restored to his rightful place as the most powerful saiyan in existence.

He would also be the only saiyan in existence. Hn, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

His mind wandered back briefly to the magnificence Kakkarot had achieved. The crackle of energy over blazing gold hair and the almost living scent of power the man had radiated. Gorgeous. Only iron control over his body prevented a quick tongue from darting out and licking suddenly dry lips. Such a great pity it would all be for nothing in a few more minutes.

Because the number of saiyans was about to be drastically reduced if his brain-damaged compatriot didn't get off of the exploding Namek in one mutha-fucking hurry.

_::...and_, grinned Vegeta Saiyan no Ouji, _when the baka dies I will finally be the most powerful saiyan, no, _**being**_ in the universe..._

_I can have anything I want.::_

Tearing a handful of grass from the ground he tossed it high in the air, laughing delightedly as it floated down to settle on his hair and upturned face. He realised he couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like this; with no malice, simply because he felt..._happy_, and it made him laugh even harder.

After a few moments he sat up straighter, crossing his arms and legs in apparent concentration. The rare laugh died on his lips, the grin morphing into his customary scowl as he fought to ignore a small, buried part of him trying to re-assert itself.

Trying to remind him of the things he once knew, those things he could never have no matter how many planets he conquered; red sunsets seen from his father's balcony, hunting prey through the forests of his home as part of a pack, sneaking sweetmeats out of the palace kitchens and evading his tutors in the warren-like royal palace. Part of him cried weakly that what he _really _wanted his pride would never allow. The want, the _need_, to walk with his own kind, to see his true home again after so many years, to feel the easy familiarity of a bond, the luxury he hadn't allowed himself since he realised what a weakness they were. Since the agony he felt as his father's bond snapped and died.

But that part of him was squashed back into its dusty mental corner with well-practised mental training. He was the saiyan no ouji. Now and always. He had no need of such concerns; he let his mind turn to less depressing matters-

_::...Now, what is there to do around here for fun?...::_ Tormenting the green-beans seemed like a good prospect. The abnormal smile returned as he rose from beneath the tree and brushed the last strands of grass from his ruined battle-suit.

_::Yes_, the smirk widened, _life is good_.::

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Half-way across the galaxy, on a planet that only a few hours ago had been ablaze with greenery and life, the other half of the saiyan race was frantically dodging plumes of molten rock shooting past his face as the very planet beneath him screamed in it's final death throes.

Namek was going to explode in less than a minute.

Plain and simply: he was royally buggered.

There was no way around it, he couldn't see anyway out of this mess; Kami, all he'd wanted to do was give the white lizard a chance and now look where it'd landed him! No ship, no senzu, no hope, barely enough ki left to fly and half his skin shredded from battle (and the other half, he noted out of the corner of his eye, getting an insta-tan from the heat).

For one of the first times in his life, Son Goku felt his spirit wavering, wanting to give in and let himself be consumed by the flames licking ever closer to his heels. The heat was unbearable, it invaded every pore and made thinking a struggle, add to the fact he was almost out of energy and the adrenaline from his fight was wearing off and, gods...it all made him feel sluggish and so, so tired...maybe if he just rested for a minute...

His frantic flight slowed and eventually stopped. His form hanging uncertainly suspended above the screaming mass of magma that used to be Namekian countryside. How was it that he could slap silly the universe's most feared despot and yet be defeated by a dead hunka'rock? Wasn't really fair when y'thought about it...

Golden spikes slowly bled to their natural blue-black. His floating form dipped a little at the loss of power.

Newly-blackened eyes were raised listlessly to the sky. A pale smile. The stars were beautiful.

So clear.

The upper atmosphere had boiled away whilst he and Frieza had fought, unable to cling to the failing planet. True, it made it hard to breathe, but at least there was nothing left to obscure his view. Ignoring his burning lungs, stinging skin, and the uncountable wounds he was only just becoming aware of, Goku gazed at an expanse of space that no earthling had ever seen before.

It really was a glorious sight.

He didn't recognise a single star, but they still sparkled down on him and the doomed planet with their clear uncaring light.

The stars at home were nothing like this. They were nothing compared to these burning effigies lighting the way for the dying Namek and its one reluctant occupant. Vague connections were made in his oxygen-starved brain, and it brought up the clear memory of the last time he'd really stopped to look at a clear night sky...

It had been a cold night for camping, but they'd gone anyway. Gohan had been so worried they'd get lost, that they would end up wandering the mountains: that Chichi would get mad at them for being home late. It showed that the kid wasn't allowed out much. It had been one of the few times Chichi had let Gohan out of her sight in his short life. Which was a shame really, as Gohan had seemed to enjoy this whole concept of, "not studying", it was almost completely new to him. But only once he had explained how to find north and navigate by the stars was his son finally convinced they wouldn't end up with frying-pan induced lumps.

His boy really was a bright one, he was more scared of his mother's wrath than any wild beast on the mountains. Had taken him years to figure out what Gohan seemed to have been born knowing...

He remembered he had pointed out some of the constellations his Grampa had taught him, repeating the names for his son. Gohan had picked them up so quickly. His son was so smart, such a strong kid too. He really couldn't be prouder of his little guy.

Other memories crowded in after this first, bringing him a cooler and more welcome warmth. Memories of new mornings fishing in the river with Gohan, the smell of fresh sweat and the pleasant ache in his muscles after a really good spar, hearing his son burble about his studies and not understanding a word his gifted little boy was saying, walking along the shore on Master Roshi's island trying to resist splashing Bulma; and the calm, cool forests and mountains he'd grown up in, and doubted he'd ever see again...

**::NO!** _nononono...no..no...::_

The blurry eyes he hadn't realised had closed snapped open: **_NO!_** It couldn't end! Not like this!! There had to be a way! There just had to be a way outta this place and to get home! He couldn't die here! He had to get home! He had to...

He unconsciously clenched his fists in frustration. ::_...I** have** to get home_...:: Nails dug into already bruised skin drawing blood, the ruby liquid gathered in his palms before dripping to the ground below...

::..._Ground? Wait, there's actually some ground left?_...::Goku blinked and focused on the scorched earth below his feet...

_::Hey, what're those things?::_

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He'd come to his senses just in time.

Namek was going through its final stages of disintegration when the damned pod finally left the last of the dying planet's atmosphere.

If he had waited scant moments more he would have been super saiyan flambé. But it's arguable whether that fate would have been all that bad compared to what was in store for him.

In his blind rush, Goku didn't realise that the pod he collapsed into had been so haphazardly handled by a certain red-haired mutant (R.I.P). He didn't know that half an hour after his hasty take off the weakened wires would give up and short out, causing the pod's engines to fail. They didn't have a chance of standing up to the shock waves as Namek finally blew. He didn't know that he would float close to the dead planet's carcass for almost a week; happily oblivious in suspended animation and bleeding liberally onto pristine leather upholstery the aforementioned mentally challenged alien had never really liked anyway.

He didn't know he'd be discovered floating in the midst of this planetary debris by an enemy he'd so recently defeated. The personal hell he would become trapped in; wishing every day that he'd let himself be turned into crispy saiyan toast.

He didn't know of the scars and burdens he would have to bear.

The depths of depravity he would be subject to that his pure mind couldn't even _begin_ to imagine.

All for the amusement and revenge of one of the most corrupt minds the universe had ever known...

But if he'd known any of that would happen, I'm sure he would have picked one of the other surviving pods, and this story would have had a very different path to follow.

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Sorry. Lied about the free popcorn.

So, what's the verdict? please leave a review if you liked it. or even if you didn't but can see some way of improving!

I'm sorry this thing hasn't been beta'ed, but word managed to get the worst of the spelling mistakes at least!

See ya next time, I've got 2 more chapters almost finished but i have no idea when i'll actually release them. Nobody hold their breath, it took me almost 2 months to get this one how i wanted it. o.O. I'm a perfectionist. so sue me!

Ja ne!


	2. Familiar Stranger

**Chapter 1 **

If anyone can remember waaaaaaaaaay back to the first chapter of this fic and has been waiting for an update, I am seriously sorry! Real life and other inconveniences got in the way… if ya really wanna know details go look at the end notes!

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill, I don't own any of the characters, they belong to the wonderful Mr Toriyama and the not so wonderful funimation. Tch. Y'think if I owned them I'd have made Vegeta cut his hair in Gt? I at least know not to try and fix something if it ain't broke.

**Warnings 4 this chappie:** _same as prologue_ slimy ice-jins, bad language, sarcastic baby talk, uncontrollable gastric ponderings and potentially volatile schizo saiyans.

REMEMBER PEOPLE- THIS IS A _**Yaoi **_STORY! That's basically homosexuality for the uninitiated ########NON-GRAPHIC!!!!!######## as this site doesn't allow that kind of naughty thing, but it might be on other sites.... err, eventually.....

Here's some reminders of my layout:

"Speech"

_::Direct Thought:: (sometimes between characters, but mostly just the internal rants of people to themselves!)_

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((Author butting in))

okay, can't delay any longer, please sit back and enjoy the first chapter of TF!

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Trunks sneered down at the pathetic creatures that had come to destroy his home.  
They were _disgusting.  
_As vile and evil as anything that had ever threatened his planet.

Well, um, actually…technically speaking… it wasn't really his home. This wasn't even his planet. Well….kinda, maybe…err, ok not _yet _anyway.

It still kinda confused him, but this planet was his, but years in the past. The differences were subtle yet astounded the young purple-haired hero, making it easier for him to believe he was on a whole different planet rather than a slightly less-worn version of his own.

He breathed in deeply. He only noticed it now it was gone: that darkly-sweet smell of death. It wasn't here yet, and the permanent clouds of smoke and dust had yet to cover that impossibly blue sky. Smoke from the fires of a thousand burning cities… Kami, was this what the earth was like before the androids? It was beautiful, even this empty desert was pure and clean in a way his own time was tainted.

Cloudless sky reflected in eyes of a mirroring colour as Trunks took in a version of his planet he hadn't even realised he'd been craving to see.

But, to Trunks anyway, the best part of this time was not how it looked or smelt, it was how it felt. He could feel thousands, no millions of human lifeforces making their way carelessly through their little lives. The simple vitality that he could sense all around him made him realise just how empty his own world had become: back home you had to strain to find the tiny colonies hidden beneath the scorched earth…

But that was the whole reason he was here. Save the Earth. Stop impending doom and destruction; make the world a safer place for your average Joe, yadda yadda yadda…

…Starting with the freaks down there.

Better get a move on then; the slimy aliens had regrouped themselves while he daydreamed and now the smaller one; Frieza he assumed- insanely gleaming eyes, and replacement body parts being a dead give away, was yelling something about monkeys and brandishing a large, flashy and not particularly impressive ki ball above his head.

_::Does this guy never learn?:: _

He could feel the white lizard's ki level now that the freak had powered up, and it really was pathetic compared to his own. He smirked as he prepared to defend against the attack that was supposed to be a challenge to him. Oh no, was fwieza gonna thwow his widdle ki attack at him? Oh what_ever_ would he do?

This guy had actually ruled the universe? Pathetic.  
_::…No wonder dad wanted a go at universal dictatorship-…::  
_the ball was released and flew straight at him…  
_::…-if this was his only competition he would have been in with a good shot:: _

Trunks's casual half-thoughts were interrupted by the unexpected flash of someone very solid, very powerful and very badly dressed materialising directly between himself and the advancing deathball that had been worrying him _so _much.

Someone with a ki that blazed with so much suppressed energy and anger that Trunks had to curb the urge to flinch, and a loosely familiar hairstyle spiking over the back of –he had a quick moment to note- the most ridiculous outfit he had ever seen.

The apparition backhanded the blood red ki-ball straight through the stratosphere with a negligent swipe of its arm.

Completely effortlessly, as if it had been nothing but a beach ball, harmless and inconsequential, not an energy attack that had been several storeys tall and capable of wiping out half the planet.  
Trunks wondered idly if he would've been able to get rid of it that easily.

Beneath the wild hair Trunks noticed broad shoulders rigid with tension and hands now white-knuckled in fists. The newcomer's whole body language spoke of nothing but anger and barely-controlled rage. Trunks quickly adopted a defensive position in case he turned and attacked.

This new addition to Trunks's view of the earth –all of his view actually, as the newcomer had materialised about 4 feet in front of him and took up quite a bit of his perspective- had his attention completely trained on the ground beneath them, so Trunks was drawn from his assessment of the friend-or-foe with a small shock when a rough voice barked at him, "Stay out of this. They are _mine_. Interfere and you will regret it." The decree ended in a guttural growl that was a universal equivalent of, "Get the hell away" or, depending on the dialect, "Don't you fucking dare mess with me".

_::Okay, so this guy either has eyes hiding in that mess of hair at the back of his head or can read ki signs … where the hell could he have come from? Did he escape from the circus? I don't recognise the style of dress…but where have I heard that voice before?:: _

Trunks had a moment to consider arguing with the man's back,…_::I mean, who does he think he is?!:: _…but he caught sight of the mini-ice-jin down below and thought better of it.

Frieza was…was _shaking_. A subtle vibration that shook his whole body: replacement parts included.

He knew that look, he'd seen it enough in his own time to recognise terror when it was right in front of him. Quaking in his non-existent little booties, Frieza was petrified of this ghost that had appeared before them.

_::He's got good reason to be_, Trunks thought eyes darting back to the man's back, _because this guy's phenomenally powerful, pissed off, and doesn't really look like he's here to hand out muffin baskets:: _

With another growl, this one lower than the first and almost imperceptible, the man descended slowly on the white statues standing frozen to the ground before him.

Trunks saw his face for the first time as the new fighter landed a few feet from the, "Lords of the Universe" and turned to the stiffly standing pair; one still scared stiff and one, to all appearances, bored stiff. Furious black eyes glared at them out of a face Trunks had only ever seen photos of. Photos that never even hinted that this man was capable of the kind of hatred he was directing at the petrified being before him. Fuck it, he had to be hallucinating. He'd hit his head or something right? Cuz something was definitely not right here…

There had to have been some mistake.

That could not possibly be _Son Goku_.

…Could it?

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I'd been searching for weeks.

Ever since I'd awoken on this strange planet, in the back of my mind I kept a small part of myself scanning for that one detestable ki. The tiny glimmer I felt every now and then only served to …annoy me; it wasn't enough!! I can't pinpoint it when it's so weak!!!! Kami, why did that freak have to have such a pathetic ki? You'd think with all those extra body parts he might have a more impressive power level…

Wait. There. Far out and barely discernable, the lifeforce I'd been trying to pin down had risen. Slightly. Still not enough Damnit!! Come on you motherfucka just a little more…

Got it!!

That last spike was all I needed. I dropped everything. Including, I regret to say, a bowl of probably the best soup in the entire galaxy. The chieftain's wife makes it with all these little fluffy seed pod thingies and spices and this one root she told me was called something like "Qumkak" or something like that –I didn't really understand as her accent is really really weird- and then she gets her sons to stamp and stamp on it in this weird tub thing big enough to have a bath in, but you can't 'cuz there's always qumkaks in there, and they stamp and jump and stamp till the whole thing's a smooth and gorgeous red creamy colour and she cooks it for almost three hours with … stoppit stomach!!! We're supposed to be concentrating!!

Heh, damn thing has a mind of its own sometimes.

Ok, where was I? Oh yeah, I dropped everything, (yes including the soup) and brought two fingers to my forehead. I only fully mastered this technique a few weeks ago, if I don't concentrate hard it could be seriously not-good. As in, particles of still-quite-hungry-saiyan spread out randomly through the galaxy. Especially over such a huge distance: I've never tried to teleport so far before…

Kami, he really is ages away.

But there's no question of waiting for a ship to be fixed for me, I am going after this freak now.

He's almost at the edges of my senses, no wonder I didn't pick up his energy until he'd raised it…

There's a new, sadistic part inside of me that seems to chip in it's opinions every now and then. At the moment that side is almost hoping he's running from me. And it is so, so glad he hasn't run far enough….

I finally concentrate enough and disappear. After I've settled these matters I'll return to Yardrat. I owe these people more than I can ever repay, the least I can do is come back and thank them properly (ok, and maybe I could grab a couple bowls of that soup if I'm here anyway).

But only _after_ I've got my revenge. _After_ I've avenged what that slimy freak did to me. What he took from me. After I show him what happens when you mess with a super-saiyan. This shouldn't take me too long; he's become complacent and weak, whilst my power level has increased unbelievably since we last fought; courtesy of his own spineless actions, countless days in a regen tank, and a saiyan's natural ability to come back from near death stronger than before.

My thoughts are fully focused on my goal by the time I reform. Right into the path of a ki attack. I hardly notice as I bat it away. It's a reflex and anyway, the pathetic thing was blocking my view of the reason I came here…

I can feel a smirk forming on my face even Vegeta would be proud of as I catch sight of the two shocked figures below me. I can hardly control the surge of emotions I feel as I see him again. A depth of hate I didn't know was physically possible throbbed right behind my eyes, red and pulsing, making it hard to see straight. Thankfully, the hate and anger blocks out the tiny thrill of fear I'd become conditioned to feeling at the sight of him; and the low ebb of shame I know I have no reason to feel....but can't make go away.

Is it possible to hate someone simply because they make you feel that hate? On top of everything else I hate Frieza for that; for opening emotions and feelings to me that I didn't even know existed. That I would have been mush happier never knowing I could be capable of…

Wait, there's someone behind me, someone else after them. He can't have him!

There's a possessive growl in my chest I barely manage to force down. This is my revenge! MINE! I'm going to tear that bastard apart!! I can hardly control my voice as I warn off the fighter behind me, if he was fighting the things below us I like him, and I can't sense anything off in his aura, but I can feel his power level, _(::oddly familiar…::)_ it's not that high, but still much greater than Frieza's, he might actually do them some damage.

Not acceptable.

My vengeance must be complete, I want every bruise, every broken bone and spilt drop of his vile blood to be at my hands, I am owed that much at least. If this guy interferes he will regret it. I don't care who he is or what he's got against Frieza; no-one is interfering with this fight.

With that thought I return my full attention to the quaking form below my boots. Assured by the muting ki behind me that I will not be interrupted. I move down to them ever-so-slowly. I want to draw this out, make it last as long as possible for that creepy little freak. I'm going to show him all I've learnt about torture.

It's only fair; he's the one that taught me.

Funny; I don't really understand these black thoughts swarming me. It's almost as if being near him for so long like, like that, has transferred some of his sick notions into my own head. I never used to have them before this, I hardly know how to deal with them. I don't know what to do when I wake up screaming in the night. I don't know what to do when I get the overwhelming urge to see blood on my hands. All I know is killing him will make it all go away.

_::It has to:: _

I land and stare at him. I can almost feel the corrupted smile creeping back onto my face; I've waited too long for this. It feels longer than it really has been; I know I still haven't completely healed from our last, "session", and I'm going to enjoy making him pay for every new scar pulling and pinching across -and under- my skin: that make movements a torment for me. Scars he gave me for no reason other than he thought my skin too smooth.

I'd barely noticed the larger one before he started speaking. I vaguely recognised him, can't remember his actual name but I'm pretty sure he's Frieza's father …Mister Sneezey or King Flu or something…He'd been standing nonchalantly behind Frieza the entire time and didn't look one bit perturbed that I'd shown up to kill his child. I was concentrating so hard he almost startled me.

Almost.

"Son, isn't this that little slave you were so interested in for so long? Your little project?" he drawled out. He sounds bored outta his skull. Like he could think of a million different places he'd rather be than here.

Good.

Go with that. I don't want you here either. Please don't tempt me, just leave.

Part of me wondered idly if killing him would make Frieza upset… No-one else would miss him if he's anything like his son…A sort of, life-for-a-life kinda thing before I send the white bastard to the next dimension.

Echoes of thoughts I haven't had for months sound at the back of my mind; forgiveness, compassion, second chances…why do I still bother with this stuff? There's no way this awful tyrant deserves a fresh start, there's not a snowball's chance in H.F.I.L of him actually repenting… but I still can't just kill him. Can I? Why should I? I don't have to kill him. But then, I don't have to spare him...

_::**No**.:: _

No matter what Frieza did to me I'm not gonna start killing just cuz I wanna. I can't. I'd be just like them. I know I'm not exactly thinking straight right now, I _know_ anger distorts your judgement, and I'm pretty sure I'd regret it later if I let myself go on a killing spree. I've got to stay in control. Concentrate and stay in control…His father may be an evil pockmark on the face of existence, but he hasn't done anything to me. If I went around killing everyone who deserved it I wouldn't have time to sleep.

_:: heh, not that I can sleep anymore anyway:: _

In any case, he isn't important. I can put up with him until I've finished with his demented hell-spawn. Then he can just leave. Hop in his little flying saucer and go. Far away from me if he has any sense.

The new, darker side of me that insists I go over there and rip both their throats out seems to rally and prompt a slightly less charitable thought, _::if he gets in my way then it is an entirely different matter…::_

"How did you get out of your cage little monkey?" eurgh. That disgusting simper could change my mind for the worse if he's not careful, "Did my naughty little boy forget to lock the door or did you find a way out? Bad monkey. Very bad. We don't take well to pets getting above themselves, now do we Frieza?"

Frieza, who I don't think has moved since I got here; was standing eyes and mouth open wide, making no reply apart from a small choking noise every now and then. An entirely pleasant sight from my perspective.

The older lizard pressed on regardless, moving closer to me, "I think we better put you back on the ship, pets that escape need to be taught their place and I'm sure Frieza can think up something suitable for a plaything as _daring _as you. Now come here." He mock-pouts at me, pointing imperiously at his feet.

_::Oh He has got to be joking…does it look like I'm wearing a collar you imbecile? You don't own me. You don't even matter, fuck it, if it didn't work when I was bound and bleeding how dumb must he be to try this pitiable routine now? I don't wanna kill him. I don't, but it's getting damn tempting...:: _

I carefully control myself and the snarl his actions almost provoke in me. I can do this. I don't care about him.

He.

Does.

Not.

Matter.

Stay in control. Concentrate! I don't want to be distracted from Frieza; the bastard could try something sneaky and I will not allow him to get away. Heh, seems I have no qualms about killing _that _bastard. Frieza seems a little surprised to see me. In fact, I'm pretty sure now that he hasn't moved since I got here. No wait, his eye is twitching a little. Guess he's still alive then…

It takes a few seconds to get through horn-boy's thick skull that I'm not moving, not going to move and am certainly not going to get down at his feet as he so obviously presumes.

I suppose he wasn't expecting this. I might have laughed, if I hadn't been so pissed at these abominations; his pale face flashed through a moment of surprise, then an odd wide eyed disbelief, eventually settling on a twisted look coloured with a red usually only found on ripe tomatoes and those apoplectically angry. I'm not entirely certain, but I don't think there were tomato plants in the ice-jins' gene pool, so I'm thinking that my contrary actions have got under his skin. Oh great, now what's he going to do? I really don't think I have the patience for this idiot…

Malice shines out of his dull eyes as he makes a threatening advance towards me, the thick reptilian tail swaying behind him and slapping into the ground in annoyance. Cracks appearing in the desert-hardened ground with each ill-tempered swing…

_::Actually, I suppose it would only be threatening if he could back up his swagger with a bit of power, but he's not even as strong as his son. _

_Heh, weakling…. _

_Someone really should tell this guy about personal space and not invading mine. Ok big guy you've made your point. You big - me small, now back off! Don't come any closer to me... I really don't want him to touch me, he's freaky, he's got that look in his eyes like Frieza when he… stay back. no don't come near me, no, not my tail! not again! nonononon…._**GET AWAY FROM ME!!!!!**

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King Cold stood pointing at his clawed feet for a moment, silently going over his recollections of the saiyan race. Ah, good times….

_::I miss my saiyans, what a fine pair they were… the _sounds_ you could get out of them when you pulled those tails! I may have to persuade Frieza to let me borrow this tasty little morsel once we get off this accursed backwater. My last saiyans died so quickly, such a fragile race…:: _

He subconsciously licked his lips. Hadn't Frieza acquired a whole planet of the gorgeous creatures at some point? The brat had been obsessed with the species for years. But there had been all that trouble with it blowing up or something… as it was, Saiyans were extremely hard to come by recently. He hadn't seen one for a couple of decades, not since the last of his saiyan pets had finally died on him. Still, they'd been such fun while they'd lasted.

A minute shiver gripped him as he thought of the gorgeous screams he could wring from this pretty one. Saiyans were always so reluctant to let anyone know they were hurting; their precious pride was always self-evident even in the most degrading of circumstances. Made it all the more satisfying when you reached their breaking points. Yes, he would definitely have to play with this little pet…

He was drawn from his (really rather hentai) reverie by the realisation that the saiyan had yet to comply with his order.

King cold blinked.

The saiyan still had yet to move.

He blinked again. This time to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

…Nope. Not moving.

Now, King Cold was a not a being used to being disobeyed. It wasn't something to do on the ice-jin mother ship if you wished to live, and this was his first trip off the labyrinthine vessel in years. Disobeying the ice-jin family simply isn't done. Disobeying him simply isn't done. The fact he was not immediately given his way in anything definitely irked him somewhat.

Here was, in his eyes, a worthless slave that seemed not only to be _not_ running to do his bidding, but also appeared to not care that he was defying the most powerful tyrant in the 7 galaxies. Maybe it was mentally retarded or something? Saiyans weren't exactly famed for their intellectual prowess.

A whisper of confusion threaded into the lizard's thoughts, displacing his irritation long enough for him to pass a second glance over the being before him. He had the formless impression he might be missing something here…

It was a pretty thing. That he liked the thing's looks he had decided a few seconds after it showed up. It would be prettier if it stopped scowling for a second or was wearing less; the sleeves of his bulky outfit reached his wrists, that ridiculous ruff covering even the neck, up to just under the pet's ears. Definitely too many clothes for such a pretty little thing…

Vaguely imagining what was beneath the many layers prompted a memory; he fully recognised the man now. He knew this pet belonged to his son, he definitely remembered seeing it in the labs, and catching sight of it in the tank room on countless mornings. Never realised it was a saiyan though…the tail he saw twitching around the man's waist was a new thing, a new weakness… but why was it looking so confident? It didn't seem to even notice that he was advancing on it.

In fact, it hadn't broken it's death stare directed at Frieza.

Odd.

Not many could stand looking at his vile offspring for long without flinching -or gaining a ticket to the next dimension.

Pets do not behave in such an obviously disrespectful way; it simply isn't done.

It would be a shame to put marks on such pleasing features, but this slave was asking for it. He would have to re-educate it on who the masters were in the Cold Empire, as it seemed his weevil of a son wasn't going to do it…

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Frieza's Father might have to be excused for his next actions; which, if he were able to look back on them, he might have thought were really quite idiotic. If the big horned baka had had even a vague nose for ki, or even just body language, he would have run screaming from the saiyan in front of him with his tail firmly between his legs. He would have thrown his son to the glowering man and scuttled away to the furthest reaches of his empire in terror before even Goku could have caught him. He would have gotten down on his knees before the legendary and begged for mercy.

As it was, he didn't have a fucking clue and he didn't do any of these sensible things.

He advanced on the man before him; a smirk forming on his face as he decided the slave's tutoring should begin at once, and jerked an arm out to grab the dark fuzzy appendage quivering infinitesimally around Goku's waist.

Goku, it turned out, wasn't so tolerant of his presence as to be touched: and released a ki blast point-blank in the giant's face.

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King Cold managed to stay on his feet for almost ½ a minute.

Quite an impressive amount of time; considering he didn't have a head anymore.

Eventually his body caught on to the idea that he was now officially dead, and the giant's knees gave out, dumping what was left of him rudely onto the hard earth at the, "pet's" feet. If his face hadn't just been blown to a million insignificant atoms, it might have carried a distinctly shocked expression, if his brain still existed it might have had …_pets never attack their masters, it simply isn't done!_… running around it in confused circles.

As things stood though; he didn't have a face anymore, and it's arguable if he ever had a brain, so all that happened was the abbreviated stub of his neck smoked a little in a petulant fashion.

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_::OH FUCK!!! I didn't mean to do that…oops. Nice one Goku; oh fuckit fuckit fuckit so much for control…:: _

Goku's momentary confusion at his actions was instantly covered with a dark scowl. By the time the body had fallen to the floor, the wide terrified eyes had hidden behind the unusual frown; no-one saw the shock of dismay that flashed through his features at his actions, not even Frieza standing within spitting distance caught the rapidly hidden bewilderment.

How could he have lost control like that so carelessly? How could he have killed someone so easily? What if he did it again? Who would he fucking BLOW UP next time? He really hadn't wanted to kill the guy, had he? But that look… How could he ever go among normal people again if he blew up like that at any little thing?…But it wasn't some little thing! He wanted my tai-

_::Kami, I've got to learn to control this new power! I'm a wreck; I can't go around blowing up anybody I think is going for my tail! How can I ever go home? How could I ever trust myself around my friends? I can never go home and endanger the people I care about if I can't even, can't even control myself…:: _

The scowl on his face turned pensive, he didn't see the flinch that crossed Frieza's face as he absentmindedly kicked the corpse away from his boots, didn't see anything for a few moments as he turned his attention inwards to one niggling fact that gave him a breath of stability: King Cold had meant him harm. He was sure of it. He'd seen it in the monster's eyes…  
…hadn't he?

But he knew he was a thousand times stronger than the bastard, there had been no reason to kill him… had there? But he hadn't even thought about it! He hadn't meant it! The ki had been there before he could think about it, just aching to be used…

He just, he saw the pale hand moving to his tail and freaked at the remembered pain of the… the last time an ice-jin had touched it…

_::aaagh! Nonono, just think about something else, calm gotta be calm. Calm down Goku. Don't think about it…about that:: _

Skin half-way healed twinged at a certain cluster of memories trying to gain attention. Goku moved an arm unconsciously to rub at the familiar ache, his tail stirring out of its loose knot around his waist to flex soothingly along his recently re-acquired stomach muscles. These tiny outward signs gave little indication of the atrocious wound that stretched across Goku's front, a ragged healing gash reaching from his rib-cage to just below his navel that had scarred so much more than his flesh.

He almost started when he realized his tail had come out of its protective cinch around his waist. Damn thing never did what he wanted it to! He focused on that group of almost forgotten muscles and wrapped the sinewy length tightly under his clothes. Maybe thebaka thing would stay out of sight this time.

He _knew _his tail was a liability, an extravagance he shouldn't really afford himself; there was no apparent upside to the highly-sensitive, monster-transformation-inducing, pain centre attached to his backside. He couldn't even control the damn thing!! Since it had been grown back it seemed to take on a life of its own. Heh, some people thought his stomach had a mind of it's own, if that was true his tail had a PhD and a coupla schizophrenic personalities.

But, it made him feel whole.

In a some subtle way he hadn't realized he'd needed, it completed him. Made him feel more at home in his own body than he'd been since a young child. He'd been a fool to let Kami take it.

Despite the trouble the damn thing had caused, despite how vulnerable it made him, despite everything, he couldn't bear to part with it again. But… if he reacted like that to anybody touching his tail…No - he'd just have to work on control in that area as well. Hopefully no-one would attack what they couldn't see and he'd never react and lose control like that again. He never wanted to kill someone innocent by accident. Never wanted to blow _anyone's_ head off again.

::_Well…maybe I could make one exception…:: _

Goku clamped down mentally one last time and pushed all his remaining confusion and apprehension to the back of his mind (damn, it was getting crowded back there). He would deal with all this emotional, moral shit later. Right now he had to focus on Frieza.

If only because he would only get this one chance to kill him…

His gaze sharpened onto the one remaining ice-jin before him. Taking in the motorized additions he'd been forced to become so well acquainted with, wishing for the millionth time that he'd just killed the bastard when he'd had the chance.

He almost smiled at the thought that he could finally rectify that grievous mistake.

Goku had remained eerily still throughout his stare down with Frieza. True, he hadn't really been paying attention to the mechanical despot since his father had suddenly found himself about a foot shorter and Goku had almost lost the tenuous control he had over his unstable psyche, but very little of the saiyan's internal conflict had shown on his face.

…None actually.

His face had remained disconcertingly…blank, emptied…from the moment the giant's body had hit the ground till Goku decided to break the heavy silence between himself and his tormentor.

Some, Frieza at their head, might argue that no matter how odd the blank deadness had seemed on such a normally animated face, it was infinitely better than the blood-hungry smirk that twisted the man's features now. The only expression Frieza had seen reach his eyes since he'd appeared before the ice-jin. It was as chilling and out of place as the low, dead voice that scarcely reached the ice-jin's technologically enhanced ears.

"Hi Frieza… Miss me?"

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A little quote from one of my favourite Blink182 songs ever actually colours my view of Frieza's thinking for this chappie, the bits where he's realised it's Goku that's just shown up-

"**Hello there, the angel from my nightmare, **

**The Shadow in the background of the morgue, **

**The unsuspecting victim of darkness in the valley**"

I love this song! "I Miss You" by Blink actually has a lot of lines in it that I find relate to my ideas for the next coupla chaps, but they're kinda mixed in with random bits&pieces so there's no point quoting 'em. In any case, have a listen to this song just cuz it's a bit weird and bit cool and generally worth a listen!

Anyways…DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO WRITE GOKU ANGRY??? I swear, that man has like an infectious-happy-vibe that makes writing him as angsty, screwed up, morally fucked or just plain pissed a real toil.

Ah well, I love'im anyway.

Sorry if Goku is a bit confusing in all this. Believe it or not that actually helps in that whole building-of-character thing because Goku is VERY confused at the moment. And a little mentally unstable. Well, actually, quite a lot mentally unstable to be honest. He really hasn't had a great time the last 13/14 months of my corner of the multi-verse, and even Son Goku has his breaking points. Though I wanna point out, his stomach is still going strong, so there's hope for the boy yet…

I have to say again that I am really sorry for the slow updates. I know how annoying it is, but I really thought in the summer (when I started posting this thing) that I'd have time to write, at least on the weekends or something, but school is being a true bitch, work is so amazingly physically draining, blah-di-blah y'know the usual… and also, son-kun's thought processes are hell to write for me (as I might have already mentioned)! I had all but the last two paragraphs of this done over 3 months ago (apart from tweaking etc) but his v. confused reaction to the king cold thing had me re-writing everything about a million times! I just need to warn anybody following this that things don't look like they're gonna let up anytime soon. sigh. I need to get a less time-consuming hobby obviously… or maybe just quit school…hmmm

Here's the part I love, Thankyou's!!!! I have got to thank the following people for reviewing my story last time

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TheChichiSlaughterHouse: Yay! Thx for the review I'm glad someone got the joke about Goku getting royally buggered. _smirk> _One of my friends says that to_ everything_ and certain images pop into my head each and every time. Glad ur fic's going so well, been reading bits here and there and I like the new song-fics! Sorry I haven't had time to review any of the recent chaps, timings etc have been a bit Kerr-ray-zee lately…

>

Aki Sujiro Kitkat: hope you're still out there as promised! i noticed there are barely any fics based in this little slice of the Dbz timeline and it always confused me…. What was so damn interesting about "those three years" that warranted about a gazillion Bulma/Vegeta get togethers when there was a completely unaccounted for year and a bit when Goku went AWOL? There is a gap in the market and I plan to EXPLOIT IT!!!! Hopefully to everyone's satisfaction! .

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KitsuneAkai13: I really hope this chapter makes up for the inexcusably long wait!!....actually, it's a bit short considering I've been working on it for 3 months. Hmph. Ah well grins hopefully the next one'll be longer!!! I can't wait for vege and Goku to get together either! I may be the all-knowing authoress of my corner of the multiverse, but I'm still not entirely sure how they're gonna pull it off….

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QueenSayain: . glad u liked it!

>  
Gutterball: First of all, if you're the same Gutterball who wrote all those brilliant fics at Saiyanhideaway dot us, I LOVE YOU!!!!! Your fics are some of the most original that have been around for ages! And (from someone who completely lacks this particular talent) I am so envious of how fast you can turn out such good material! I'm gonna review your fics properly at some point, but I don't really have space or time right now so just keep in mind that I think u r a brilliant writer, don't go changing was great and it's about damn time someone expanded on that little fantasy of veggie's in trinity…

ahem anyways… getting out of fan-girl mode and back to business… sorry about the delays. Guess I underestimated the whole, "I'm gonna need 2 months" kinda thing, sheepish grin at least I got the thing out right? Just a _lil _bit late… O.o

and yes I love abusing poor Goku, it's gotta be the grin, I just can't think of any other reason…

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Firefly: YAAAAAY!!!!! My fic has an official fan! sorry said fan has had to wait so long… you've been waaaaaaaay patient. B.t.w. I love "a new life", the Vegeta in it was EXCELLENT!! I still giggle at his immense ego vis a vis the lemons, sweet spots and first tries in the 2nd last chap. Hehe. I'm seriously bummed it's finished, but I love the way you ended it! Lemons are definitely the way to go! I'll probably be posting this at aff dot net, or MM dot org, or (if I can stick to the one a week thing) gotyaoi dot com…

( I _hate_ writing these dot thingies, FF why won't u let me write URL'S!?!?!?! curses...)

…when I get to the parts that ff net would definitely not be liking. But I'll keep a version of this here… I think I'll just try and water it down a bit…

>

Viper-Vegeta: have I still got ur attention? Yes? Good! I may need a beta in the upcoming chaps, but for the mo' I'm doing my own and it's going okay…. (this is a cover for the truth- I haven't actually got enough material at the moment alpha'd let alone needing to be beta'd yet!) am very happy u liked the first chap hope I get the same reaction for this one!

In any case… comments? Thoughts? Psychological analysis's of just how screwed up I've made Son? (on a scale of 1-10, 1 being Hannibal-Lecter-Meets Freddie-Meets-Jason-psycho-ness, 10 being his normal contented self ). You'll be finding out just why he's so weirded out in a coupla chapters, I mean, Goku would not get this freaked out just cuz he got raped a few times…and beaten a lot… and psychologically scarred… I torture the poor boy way too much don't i? Once I tweak this thing and upload it you'll be seeing it on ff net, about new year's-ish I think…

Ok, this author's note has gone on waaaaaaaaaaaaay too long. See ya next chapter and check out my fave stories and authors! It's all good stuff and worth a look, especially stuff written by Gutterball, who has suddenly appeared outta nowhere with some of the best fics EVER! Anyways, GO! READ! SPREAD THE YAOI! And if you've got time I would appreciate somefeedback!

Hehe.

Ja ne!

HH

p.s. I know i pepper my writing with random uncannected bits of japanese; they probably wouldn't make any sense in actual context but they sorta work in these kinda fics; anyway, if anyone is having some problems with any phrases give me a yell and i'll put translations at the bottom of the next chapter!

p.p.s. i am _really_ starting to hate this formatting process.... I WANT MY INDENTS BACK DAMN YOU!!!!!!!!!


	3. Reunions

Chapter 2

Warnings 4 this chappie-

well...pretty much the usual! Plus extra special added extras: Frieza bashing, extreme profanity as only saiyan royalty can manage, high-pitched Bulma, vague suggestion of attempted necrophilia, all out war, and two very confused and shaken up demi-saiyans.

Disclaimer: No, I still haven't gotten the rights to their souls. But damnit! I _know_ i left them around here somewhere (stares forlornly at hideous mess bedroom has become)...

Sorry if the formatting's a little off, for some reason ffnet now won't let me do double " : " of those, so direct-thoughts-within-a-person's-head are now in this kinda format:

_:thinkingthinkingthinking:_

And my page-breaks/change of perspective thingies are now:

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cuz i can't do lotsa "#" (mutters something inaudible but obviously extremely rude about ffnet's formatting bugs)

It's a pity i didn't get this finished sooner, but i couldn't find a suitable break point for the two chapters so i just kept on writing!

heh. so a little (cough_alot_cough) late, but about twice the length it should be so there's an upside as well.

okay, everybody strapped in? Here we go!

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_:…well, use it or lose it I suppose, and I _really_ don't think the big guy was using his head for the little stunt he just pulled…Kind of an improvement to be honest…:_

Trunks's callous thoughts broke in on the white noise his brain was stuffed with. Kami, he'd been looking right at the two and he hadn't even seen Goku's hand move (let alone the split-second flash of panic that crossed the saiyan's face); just a flash of light and -_Hey presto_!- instant decap. hold the horn…

_:…at least now I don't have to see his ugly mug leering at me anymore. Eurgh. That was one _creepy_ bastard:_

But all that was beside the point. What really had Trunks gaping was not the act itself, Kami knows he'd seen worse, but rather who had just committed it.

Trunks's stunned brain had now overcome the initial shock, churned over and kicked itself back to life, bringing him to the realisation of one very important fact: Son Goku, earth's almighty saviour and all-round nice guy, had just killed someone, violently, for no apparent reason.

The man his mother had always preached was a veritable saint, who wouldn't hurt a fly unless he absolutely had to, who always gave everyone, even the bad guys, even his violent prince of a father, a second chance; this man had just blown someone's head off with no more warning than a split-second rise in his ki.

He was beginning to doubt his mother's words. How could this be the man she so happily pointed to in dog-eared photos? The one Trunks had heard so many stories about that he felt he knew him as well as an older brother. There was obviously a resemblance, and it turns out his mother hadn't been exaggerating when she said her dead friend was powerful, but the subtle differences made the man below Trunk's feet seem like a complete stranger.

This _was_ Son Goku. If only because the ki felt achingly similar to how Gohan's had, once you sifted through all the anger that masked it anyway. And yet….there were slight physical differences to the man he'd been expecting, and now that Trunks could see the saiyan's face clearly he noticed, even stranger than just the peculiar costume he had on, that Goku's face seemed thinner and paler than what he'd expected. There were strange short patches in hair he had only ever seen as thick and healthy. Dark bags weighed heavy under eyes used to dancing with joy. Eyes now framed by fiercely glaring brows. And he seemed to be somehow…gaunter? That wasn't quite the right word …, he couldn't quite place how there was something missing in his eyes…

Yet the man standing below him was still recognisably Son Goku, it was still basically the same familiar face of a hundred smiling photos, even if the expressions on it weren't. This was indeed the man Trunks had crossed the timestream to talk to and warn…

_:Ok, so this was the guy I've come to see. Kinda. But how the hell did he get _here_? Goku is supposed to be at least 3 hours from Earth in deep space! Maybe gaping as he passes Jupiter or napping happily in his little pod and dreaming of returning to his wife's home-cooked riceballs or fishing or eating some more or...or something! Happy, air-headed non-worries I'm supposed to put a boot up so this Earth has a chance to survive:_

This was _not_ how things were supposed to be.

He shook his head slightly trying to deny what he knew was the only explanation.

Something had gone wrong, horribly wrong.

Either in his ship when he was crossing the time boundaries, possibly because of his crossing in the first place, or perhaps earlier in this world's timeline. He might've somehow found another reality instead of the past of his own. His mother had once said how whole universes are separated by no more than a butterfly's wing…that sometimes a single breath could alter destiny beyond belief.

His mind boggled trying to figure out just how he'd managed to fuck this up… he'd put all the co-ordinates in just as his mother had instructed him, he'd checked all his machinery just as she'd said, … he'd done _everything_ his mother had told him, even taken the gum outta his mouth before he left… what had happened? He beat back the beginnings of a headache -time travel was a really confusing hobby- and looked back down to the battle-field-to-be.

The familiar stranger was now…smiling…at Frieza. Again, that wasn't quite the right word, but he couldn't seem to find a better alternative to the display of teeth on the man's face. Trunks felt himself shiver at the coldness in that look. The smile touched the man's black eyes with something Trunks was reluctant to name.

He had seen that same expression in his own time. More times than he'd have liked to. But it seemed odd that it appeared almost as at home on this normally cheerful-visage as it did on the bloodied face of a psychotic android.

_:Kami…_ Trunks suppressed another shiver…

…_What the fuck happened in this timeline:_

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Frieza was, to put it simply, not having a good time.

In fact, since his personal surgeons had carelessly let Goku die on the operating table; resulting in their immediate dismissal to the next dimension, things had been going downhill for the diminutive despot.

He'd ordered the operation to go ahead when waiting for his toy to become available had become just _too_ tedious; the whole damn project had been taking too long! He'd wanted to have some more fun with his little saiyan. Of course Frieza knew the procedure was risky, knew the monkey was weakened when he'd ordered it, but it had never really crossed his mind that the man would actually _die_ from it.

Heh, a super-saiyan dying, not gloriously at the hands of his enemies in battle, but because of a little needle. Frieza would have laughed at the irony when he was told, if he hadn't been so monumentally pissed.

Goku's inconsiderate death put a crimp in Frieza's recreational plans. He was no good to him DEAD now was he? Especially when the doctors took that moment to become proficient for once and had already disposed of the body. Baka surgeons.

After that Frieza had begun the boringly arduous task of re-instating his reputation; ruthlessly searching the galaxy for any beings that might have witnessed or heard of, of _Namek,_ and what happened there and eliminating them. All he had left to do was come here on a nice little stress-free vacation and dispose of the earthlings who knew of his humiliating defeat. And, what the heck, the rest of their stinking planet as well.

But, noooooo.

He couldn't have things go his way now could he? First his father had to tag along and give, "advice" all the way here, annoying the hell out of his son and making Frieza take several little trips to the technology labs.Partly because his father would go nowhere near that strangely lit area of the laboratories, but mainly to try and have his hearing implants adjusted to tune out certain paternal vocal frequencies.

Then this little pastel punk turns up and decimates his standing forces, _then _the brat turns out to be some kind of hybrid super-saiyan. Why were all these saiyans suddenly jumping outta the woodwork? And why in the cosmos were they all after _him_? …Oh yeah. That planet destroying habit he had…

In all honesty, Frieza had almost had a heart-attack when the kid had transformed. Some important safety valve within his electronically supplemented brain jumped dangerously close to the breaking point. Only the quick re-assessment of the boy's features calmed him. This wasn't Goku. It couldn't possibly be Goku. Goku was dead.

But those _eyes_…the teal eyes reminded him too strongly of his last defeat. Of the waking nightmares he'd been having ever since he'd found himself on his father's ship with metal in place of his bones. He saw a dead man where this living boy stood and glared -in some oddly well-known way- and _he couldn't stand it_. Couldn't stand the mocking in those blazing blue eyes and couldn't stand the fact that even in death Goku was still finding some way to come back and humiliate him.

Which is why he might have lost control.

Just a little.

His momentary confusion of the boy's identity was quickly swept aside for all out rage. Which led to a lot of ki-blasts, cursing and not a lot of the now-golden-haired kid dying.

Stupid Monkey.

So it was about this time that Frieza decided he'd use his favourite planet-destroying attack on the little whelp. Maybe a bit like overkill, but fuck it, he was always up for the lightshow this thing gave him. And the sudden explosion of the entire planet _might_ convince his father to stay home next time.

Anyone who could stand being so nauseatingly close to Frieza at this point in time would have heard a string of mumbled curses as he gathered energy for the imminent attack, mumblings that went somewhere along the lines of, "…uck's sake…not a hatchling… baka saiyans…can take care…m'self… baka father…baka monkeys…", the sort of mumbling that would make such a strong-stomached person doubt the efficiency of Frieza's patched-up brain…

Frieza's brain was, as has been mentioned: patched up. Quite badly really. The entire right side of Frieza's head had been lost to Namek's explosion. Almost 40 of his brain tissue, one eye, one ear, and a whole chunk of the ice-jinn's all-ready debateable sanity. The technicians that had reconstructed Frieza from the wreckage of a body they'd found floating through space had done a commendable job, but they were only mortals.

When for the second time in 10 minutes Frieza saw his most dreaded nightmare before his eyes he had one tiny moment of delusion where he was convinced the golden-monkey-brat had spawned a twin. Then the same second-glance that had confirmed the brat's identity as decidedly NOT Goku broke the bad news that, well, actually, this one decidedly WAS.

This allowed one fundamental flaw in Frieza's patched-up body to jump to the fore; the fact his brain could not handle large surges of emotional energy between the two halves of his head. The sort of emotional shock that almost pushed his brain into meltdown when the kid had transformed now doubled, tripled at the sight of his assumed-dead nemesis coalescing out of thin air in front of him.

Fuses blew, subtle circuitry shorted out, the unequivocal wave of electrical emotional signals crashing through both parts of Frieza's brain were simply too much and with a momentary "fzzz" sound, Frieza's brain locked up like a cheap laptop in wailing protest.

Son Goku, the real one this time, right in front of him, alive, glowering and without a ki-restraint in sight…

_: OH SHIIIIiiiii…. _Please press F1 to continue_…:_

Time passed; hours, minutes, it didn't matter as Frieza wasn't aware of it. He wasn't aware of much really, incapable of even simple defense, his body locked into it's standing position, the only flicker of movement a slight twitch in his left eye.

Frieza's brain unfortunately managed to reboot itself in the short time it took for the spectre to kill his father.

He saw in painful detail the near-comical flop of his sire's body before the saiyan's feet.

Could've sworn he saw a moment of shock, or…repulsion?...on his ex-pet's face, before the once expressionate eyes became opaque and unreadable as marble. He saw how his face stayed hard as rock; before cracking so forcedly into a humourless smile. And how his previously deadlit eyes showed a blaze of cold emotion to match that bitter grin.

Of course, the fact his brain had decided to come back online at such an inopportune moment meant he would feel everything that followed in clear technologically-enhanced spikes of pain.

Baka computers.

_: Goku's alive. The saiyan is back. NOnonononono, he can't be! He died…I've got to be imagining this. I'll wake up soon with half a dozen quacks crowding round me trying to fix whatever it is that's short-circuited in my brain. I'll blast them all to hell and everything will be fine. It'll all be fine. Just fine. He's d..dead. He died….died on the operating table during the extrac…. _**wait**

_Wait…:_

Connections were made tentatively amongst the mess in Frieza's head: had he ever seen the body? No. He'd never seen the body. _He'd_ never seen the body…

_**HE'D NEVER SEEN THE BODY**_

….he'd just believed the surgeons -had wanted to believe the surgeons- when they'd told him. Goku had steadily been resisting the ki-inhibitors before the operation had gone ahead; it'd been obvious he was becoming a threat again. He'd been pissed, yes, but had almost _wanted_ to believe that threat had been neutralised so efficiently…

But the fact remains: He never saw the body.

Oh those little fucks. If he ever got out of here those fucking doctors were in for a lesson in the meaning of pain! No, wait…damn, he'd already blasted them to Hell for letting the saiyan die in the first place. Shit. Shit shit shit shit…..and this particular, "ghost" looked very solid and slightly unhinged. How the hell had he survived anyway? How had the saiyan gotten here? But more importantly, how the hell was he gonna get away from him?

Frieza saw Goku's cold gaze sharpen and a tremor moved unbidden through his body.

He'd seen such looks many times in his life. You can't go around blowing up people's villages and cities and planets without gaining a few mortal enemies; but this was the first time he'd ever seen his death in the eyes of someone with the power to actually carry it out.

He was in deep shit.

At one point the man before him would have forgiven anyone of anything, Frieza's continued existence was testament to the fact. But Frieza had seen that compassionate belief gutter and die in the short year he'd had keeping of the saiyan. Had finally beaten the notion out of him. Shredded the conviction that there was some good in everybody to an unidentifiable mess. Torn compassion viciously from his heart and left the remains bleeding on the floor.

But, something was…different.

Off.

There was definitely something _off_ about the saiyan in front of him. Yes, he saw murder in those black eyes. Yes, he remembered just what he had done to deserve that very look, but…he didn't remember ever seeing that look of defeat in the man's eyes, didn't remember ever putting that look there. Goku had remained defiant right up to the last time he had sent the man unconscious to his hard cell floor…

Yes, Goku had definitely changed since the last time Frieza had seen him. He scanned the saiyan, pushing aside any rising emotions to actually _look. _He was paler in some way that had nothing to do with his naturally porcelain skin. His eyes held shadows darker than the very blackness of a saiyan's inherently pitch eyes.

He was…. broken.

Something had snapped…something, something Frieza had never been able to touch had been…broken. Something had finally beaten the saiyan before him.

Frieza had the barest inkling he knew what might have caused such a monumental shift, he had rudimentary knowledge of the nature of saiyan bonding, enough to guess at the vulnerability present in the saiyan before him. And a plan began forming at the back of his brain on how exactly he could exploit this new weakness.

Yep, you guessed it folks, he still hasn't learnt. Still the same Frieza, he's gonna try and get outta this.

Frieza may have been a sneak, a horrific mass-murderer on the sort of scale that isn't even possible to comprehend on Earth, a freak and one of the kinkiest bastards even the sex-crazed moons of Pa'orn had ever seen; but he was stubborn as the proverbial ass. This sleazy little changeling was the essence of ice-jin traits in many ways; one being he abhorred not getting his own way; two being that if he had a target locked into his brain he would not give up on that idea until hell froze over and Beelzebub personally handed him a pair of ice-skates.

No amount of mechanical implants could change it. He was pig-headed.

No set back or obvious mistake would ever alter it. He was ice-jin from the top of his repaired head to the end of his mechanical tail.

No amount of pain or beating could dislodge the fact he _still _considered himself this glowering monkey's better (and the rest of the universe's while we're on the subject).

And no matter how powerful the saiyan before him became, Frieza knew he had one over on him. One thing that was a true ace up his sleeve. Because Frieza was now sure that this great agony that had so changed the saiyan before him was the same thing that had led him to believe the man had died months before. One little thing…

Or rather, one little person.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Why was there never _ever _a camera around when you needed one?

Goku knew a Kodak moment when he saw one, and the look Frieza's face seemed to have become stuck on was something he wished he could capture and cherish for all of time.

Although fully appreciating the look of petrified confusion Frieza's face seemed to have become stuck on, Goku was starting to feel the beginnings of nausea he always got when in close proximity to the slimy maggot, something that had developed within his first week of being stuck in the vile creature's presence. Gods he hated this feeling. Like a nest of snakes had recently hatched in his gut and weren't exactly happy about it. He was just gonna get this over with… was going to get what he came here for; revenge.

Sweet, sweet revenge.

And then he was gonna get back to Yardrat. No-assing around. No hanging about. No more unnecessarily expended energy.

Well…

…maybe he should make the lizard squirm a little. Just a little. There was no doubt he deserved a taste of what Goku had been put through…

Frieza's first tentative movements jerked him back from his half-thoughts on which body parts to remove first,

_:y'know I really should finish the job I started on Namek…maybe I should start with that one remaining arm, 'be rude to leave him all lopsided like that and all…:_

Some say that the best sense for recall is scent. Our olfactory senses, arguable the most primal, are linked near- directly to certain memories in our brains.

The smell of suntan lotion is lodged in the minds of a million earth children as the essence of summer.

Scent was the first key identifier amongst saiyan blood, no babe could ever forget their birth-parents' scent.

And for reasons he could never adequately explain, anything pine-needle fresh would recall perfectly the quadratic formula in Gohan's confused mind no matter the situation.

But in this case hearing was a powerful enough sense to send Goku hurtling back to a time he couldn't breathe for thinking about. Before Goku could begin the systematic vengeance he'd spent hours of his rarely coherent thoughts on, Frieza opened his disgusting painted mouth. Maybe to yell some insult at him one last time, maybe to vainly plead for his pathetic life, he didn't know; he wasn't, couldn't, listen. The sound of this mechanical monster's voice, his slimey, deceitful, feminine voice, was like a bulldozer to every mental barrier Goku had managed to patch together other the past year. The thin walls within his mind tore like so much wet paper at the mere _sound_ of his tormentor's voice, a voice he hadn't heard for months anywhere but his nightmares.

Goku's eyes widened unseeingly as he was dragged back into the mess his mind had become. The walls in his mind collapsed, and without them, the chaos threatened to drown him once more.

Memories raised themselves out of the dark hiding places he'd banished them to. Memories he'd only just been able to force back down when he dealt with the whole King-Cold's-two-feet-shorter-all-of-a-sudden-oops slip-up, but now they slinked eagerly out of the darkness of his subconscious, moving to the epicentre of his mind's eye with blinding speed at the prospect of biting, shredding, tearing at those tender parts of his sanity that had scarcely been rebuilt…

Oh Gods it _hurt._ Hurt right down deep. It undermined and attacked some important pillar of his consciousness he hadn't even known was so vulnerable before this whole ordeal. Goku barely kept his knees from buckling while the memories danced mockingly to the forefront of his attention, shaking loose their chains as his suppressed demons threatened to wreak havoc across his psyche once more. His hands clenched tightly of their own accord, he could feel himself losing it, slipping, crumbling.

He helplessly replayed the blood, the pain, the tears, every slash, every bruise, every moment of humiliation and torn flesh… but _none_ of it hurt as much, nothing even compared, to that one instant he awoke on Yardrat to find himself so horribly excruciatingly _**alone**._

He screamed.

Images and feelings that had been firmly strapped down and contained now ripped freely through his tattered defences. Gouging new scars over the old in the core of his mind. He felt his control slipping over his body and his power, felt the frozen smile on his face wither away until he just threw his head back and howled.

He screamed for all the things this monster had stolen; his innocence, his sanity, horror free nights, the tiny little… no, don't think about that, don't, _don't_… no **no NO**…_**WHY DOES IT STILL HURT SO MUCH**?..._ Power rushed to his call, trying to fill a void that had been so recently torn in his body and mind, trying to replace what had been stolen. Blazing gold usurped the butchered raven locks, eyes bleaching to a colder blue than the universe had yet seen. The planet itself began to shake in sympathy of the super-saiyans desperate struggle.

But Goku was hardly aware of it.

His eyes remained wide and blank to the world.

He couldn't see anything but his memories.

Couldn't feel the hot tears streaming down his face.

Couldn't feel the warning heat building in his muscles and the air around him as his ki grew steadily beyond that which he could control. Couldn't feel anything but the pain.

But still he heard Frieza's voice - not the desperate words the ice-jin now seemed so intent on saying, not the gasp of surprise as the changeling was thrown back by Goku's igniting power, but the haunting laughter that had been the last thing he'd heard before he'd awoken on Yardrat.

It all swirled through his mind, tearing into his psyche, confusing his sense of where he was, of why it all mattered anymore. Even as he screamed he was vaguely aware that a part of his mind was truly buckling under the pressure, knew it and couldn't stop it. Knew he couldn't care enough to stop it anymore. Why bother? He couldn't do it; there simply wasn't enough power to fill this awful howling emptiness. Before this started he'd never realised just how huge the part of his soul that he shared was, couldn't have realised how vulnerable he was when it was so unnaturally violated. How could this one loss have disrupted everything else within his mind? How could he be so, so _weak_ as to be brought down by this damage he couldn't even see? He'd wanted to fight it, had needed to fix it at some point, but how the fuck was he supposed to do _any_thing, to even _think _straight with this aching bareness within him?

He almost forgot what he was here to do in the terrible despair that swept through him at that thought -nothing would make the ache go away. He'd lost something irreplaceable.

Nothing could undo what that freak had done to him. Nothing would heal the unnatural black rips that had been shredded through his mind. And nothing would ever return what he had taken away. What HE had taken away. What FRIEZA had forced upon him and then ruthlessly torn away. It was all FRIEZA'S FAULT! This pain, this gods-awful pain…

**:HE DID THIS TO ME:**

Gods, if he could make him feel even a fraction of the pain he was feeling right now….

The thought hadn't even finished forming and he was right before the lizard lord, a knee buried deep in the white fleshed gut. He didn't bother to hold back a smile at the choked scream this caused. The senseless sensation of motion as he backhanded the freak to the ground momentarily drowning out the torture confined within his mind. Quieting the demons and soothing the ragged holes in his consciousness like a fine opiate. The raging power that had been building without his conscious thought spiked with his movements, barely contained within his skin now he had a target and direction. With such a satisfying punchbag as the outlet of all that terrible pain the freak had caused him his very bones felt alight.

He'd have Frieza screaming for mercy before he was finished. Screw ending it quickly and getting back to Yardrat. He was gonna pay him back tenfold for everything he'd done…

_:fuck mercy. Fuck compassion. Frieza is gonna scream all the way to the lowest levels of hell…:_

_oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_

_ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_

Vegeta took one look at the saiyan/ice-jin stand-off below him, scrunched his eyes firmly closed, turned his face to the unsuspecting blue sky and swore for almost 7 minutes straight before he'd repeated even a single curse.

There are very few people left in the galaxy that can still manage such a skill -especially at the speed the last saiyan prince was managing to spit them out- and was a true testament to a childhood wasted blowing up those weaker and with a larger vocabulary than himself. The fact that 98 of the expletives leaving his mouth were in languages these humans couldn't bend their weak throats around, let alone understand, was the only thing that kept the blue harpy from screeching at him; seeing as roughly 100 of the offensive words pouring so fluently out of Vegeta were aimed at her friend the $£& bakayarou who had just &$#$& well appeared out of nowhere onto the battle field and was now giving that &#$£?& Frieza the &$£$&-kicking he had wanted to for the past two &#€$-£$£# decades.

((a/n, I'd like to take this moment to explain that I'm not shy about swear words. They serve a very useful purpose and I'm pretty sure that Vegeta's head would explode if he didn't let off steam this way every now and then, that or there'd be many _many_ more cases of genocide in his close proximity. The only reason these words have been put into weird symbolly-thingies is that I haven't found the English equivalent of the sounds coming outta his mouth. O.O; ))

This was not the first time the baka had evoked this reaction in him, but certainly the first time he had allowed himself to give in to the unadulterated feelings of rage and just, _unfairness,_ the £$& baka seemed to carry with him everywhere; as palpable as the man's scent and in the same way almost a physical presence to saiyan senses.

"**_FUCKIT_!"**

–there, he felt a little better now. His power level had been steadily rising during his rant, he squashed it back down; they were supposed to be incognito till an opportunity presented itself to jump the snarling saiyan down there and knock his fucking head off. At least, that was _his_ plan, the weaklings around him were probably thinking more along the lines of coming out when it looked like Kakkarot had stopped going nuclear.

The bad thing about devoting one's entire attention to cursing a person into the next dimension was it hardly ever worked, usually turning out to be a waste of breath.

(( a/n, sorry to butt in again, but it should be noted that it _is_ possible to kill someone this way: though personally, Vegeta has only managed the impressive feat a handful of times, and has recommended just blasting the bakas as it's much more effective. Sorry, no more interruptions, back to the show…))

That; and you might miss some important developments whilst you were so absorbed- very dangerous on the battlefield, but in this case a fucking shame as he would've _loved_ to see King Cold's head blown from his shoulders.

A small smile crept onto his face as he caught sight of the golden death below him, watching the almost poetic dance of pain the blazing saiyan weaved around his new punching bag

:…._heh, at least I'm not missing the main show…:_

… even if it wasn't himself doing the hitting, it was still gratifying on so many levels to see his former master in such a state of panic that he was launching energy attacks every which way and not a single one landed on target. Heh… the bastard was sorely outclassed, Kakarotto was beating him to a nice bloody pulp…

Hn. Excellent technique really. Kakkarot was causing huge damage each time he touched the slimy little bastard, yet Frieza was still recognisably conscious and obviously feeling every single hit, if the screams drifting vaguely to his sensitive ears were anything to go by. Nice. It usually took years to perfect the art of getting that kind of pain out of an opponent without killing them. Wonder were the baka picked it up? From the astonished looks he noticed from the assembled, "Z Senshi" they had never seen their dear_ Goku_ behave in such a way.

Interesting…

:_ fuck this. I'm a Saiyan Prince, I will **not** hide behind a pile of rocks while there is a battle going on. Besides…if I don't move soon, Kakkarot will have finished off Frieza, and then I'll never be able to show the planet-destroying bastard just what I think of him:_

Vegeta was just gathering the energy to take off when he noticed the whelp -the _super saiyan_ whelp who'd been giving Frieza a run for his money- land clumsily on a rock pillar near their little group as he dodged a stray ki-blast. His heart constricted slightly…the kid was no where near old enough to have been born on Vejita-sei; could more of his people have survived the explosion?

_:Goddamn…Must have been desperate though. To mate with something with_ that _kinda colour scheme would require dire need or a lot of pan-galactic-gargle-blasters (1)…:_

His hopeful wonderings were partly shoved to the back of his mind by anger. This boy was yet another blow to his pride. First Kakkarot, a third class peasant had beaten him to becoming a super-saiyan, and now this- this _child_ had surpassed him as well! Some little mongrel punk! There were two, count'em, TWO legendary super-saiyans in the same millennia, AND NEITHER OF THEM WAS HIM!

UNACCEPTABLE! These konoyaros didn't seem to realise he was their _prince_, that they should all get down on their knees and offer him their lives for being so audacious as to better his own level!

He was beside the brat before he could think of what he was doing, gripping him by the throat and lifting him a good foot off the ground in front of him. The brat may be a super-saiyan, but his battle instincts were appalling when not powered up. The kid hadn't even turned at Vegeta's rapid approach, preferring to stare avidly as Kakkarot turned Frieza into a purple smear on the desert floor. If Vegeta'd been intending to kill, the boy would've been a bloody heap on the ground right now.

The thought had crossed his mind actually, it was _very_ attractive idea…but no; business before pleasure. Info now, whelp-beating later.

Eyes he might have found familiar if they hadn't been such an odd colour stared down at his angry face as he addressed the boy dangling in his hand.

"Who are you, what are you doing here, and how the fuck are you a super-saiyan? Explain. Now. Or I will snap your neck like a twig." Vegeta's voice was low and dangerous, deceptive of the conflict he found surging in his gut. With the boy actually here, in his hand, he realised he'd been distracted. He didn't have time for this! He wanted to go fight Frieza! But he also wanted to beat this little shit into the ground! But most of all, he wanted to pound Kakarotto into the turf until his hair stopped that annoying gold shiny thing that showed everyone just how far he'd been surpassed by the third-class. He also really, really wanted to continue his rant about the baka…there were so many wonderful comments forming in his mind about certain people and their _shininess. _But first he had to know how…

"VEGETA! Put the poor kid down! He's just been fighting Frieza he doesn't need you on his case as well **you asshole**!"

Oh Great.

Just what he needed.

The **_Onna._**

One of only two people on the planet with vocal chords capable of making saiyan ears _bleed._ And then be able to keep the aural torture up for minutes at a time without _any _apparent need for breath. This delicate flower was skidding gracefully down the mesa slope on her butt, yelling all the way, aimed straight for them. Oh happy joy fucking joy.

"….can't you leave anyone alone for one minute? You are the most conceited, annoying bastard I have ever had the misfortune to have to meet and if you think for _one minute_ mister that you're coming back to Capsule Corp after this you can just…." Ok, that would probably be physically impossible even if he _did_ still have his tail.

Or could find that many sheep…

The kid blushed so hard at that particular titbit that he turned red from where Vegeta had his hand wrapped round his throat right up to the roots of his disgustingly purple hair.

Impeccable self control kept the Prince from doing two things that would have showed embarrassing weakness: rolling his eyes at his luck, and wincing at the terrible assault on his sensitive hearing. Instead he tightened his grip on the purple kid, who seemed to have become transfixed by the atrocity the onna had somehow tricked him into wearing, and: interrupting an interesting and varied tirade on why his existence was an insult to sentient life the universe over, barked straight back at the annoying woman.

"Onna, if you don't close your trap I'll do it for you, then I will return to your precious CapCorp _whenever I damn well feel like it_, and incinerate every article of footwear you own. This brat is somehow one of _my_ subjects. Therefore this is none of your concern. Go home and cook something, the battlefield is no place for a pathetic, helpless _woman_." The Onna, amazingly to the rest of the baka brigade following her down the slope; shut up.

Vegeta let a small smirk creep onto his face, he had discovered during his first week's stay at the CC that physical threats had little to no effect on the shrill chikyuu-jin. However, so much as mention the words, "ki-fry" and, "your wardrobe" in the same sentence and she was quite easy to manage.

His attention remained fixed on the purple haired brat half-choking before him, even though he then slid his eyes sideways to fix the perma-smirk at a certain grimacing Greenbean.

"Besides onna, your damn screeching is upsetting the poor Namek" It was an unfortunate moment for ol'Pointy Ears to arrive at their impromptu gathering, he knew the Beanpole had much more sensitive hearing than himself and was silently impressed Greenboy was still standing after the onna's shrieking. The child in his hand had flinched slightly as well…so definitely saiyan ears, though the kid was still clearly a halfling. A full blood would have suffered quite a bit more. Though he'd never admit such a thing out loud.

"…well runt? I don't have all day y'know." He gave the kid a shake for emphasis and returned to glaring into those hideously blue eyes.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Trunks was slightly surprised when he felt a strong hand settle resolutely around his throat. He'd been kinda distracted watching Goku beat on Frieza, trying to catch whatever it was he was yelling at the white-maggot over the ice-jin's screams of pain, and dodging the wild attacks Frieza was launching at the super saiyan in a vain attempt to keep him at bay.

It was after one of the Frieza's less well aimed shots that he found he had drifted over to the area his mother said she and her friends had been hiding in. It had never occurred to him that he should watch out for attacks from their direction as well. Heck, weren't they supposed to be the _good _guys?

Then he felt a steel grip closing over his windpipe. What else could go wrong today? He looked down and caught sight of a face he had pored over for hours at a time in sparse photos…. had to ask hadn't he?

_This is my father?_…._pink? PINK? and where's the rest of him? He's almost as short as mom!..:_

Was no-one in this dimension what he had expected them to be?

And why was nothing on this trip going how it was supposed to?

_:oh jeez…Mom's gonna kill me when I get home! Not only have I revealed myself to her past friends, when I clearly didn't need to if the beating Goku's giving Frieza is anything to go by, but my father, my _**father**_, is now glaring at me like he wants to remove my spleen with a spatula. How could this day get any worse? Okay, gotta stay calm and deal with dad before that vein in his forehead ruptures or he actually DOES break my neck…:_

Trunks's overly confused thoughts were scattered by a particularly vicious shake from the man holding him. His dad may not be a super-saiyan but he was a lot stronger than Trunks had thought he'd be. It was kinda backwards, but the son felt a sharp flash of pride for his father. He wished he could stick around and get to know this man… Gohan had told him how Goku would take him fishing in the summers and tobogganing in the winters, he smiled at the idea of himself and his dad having a quiet day fishing by a cool river somewhere…

"WHAT are you grinning about brat! Answer me!

-WHO"

(shake)

"-ARE"

(shake)

"-YOU?"

(Double shake for emphasis) Trunks's stomach, already queasy from the rollercoaster of time travelling, was beginning to suffer a bit with all the back and forth motions going on, he was starting to think seriously about powering up and breaking free, no matter how mad this was sure to make his explosive father. He was suddenly hit with the feeling that Vegeta wasn't the sort of guy who'd be patient enough for fishing…

Luckily a calm deep voice intervened before his dad decided to choke him properly or Trunks embarrassed his father by blowing chunks on him: Piccolo.

"Vegeta, how do you expect him to answer your questions if he can't breathe? Put him down, I'm sure we're all curious about how exactly he managed to fight Frieza as a super-saiyan. I thought you and, heh, _Kakkarot_ were supposed to be the last of your kind?"

Despite the mocking he'd layered into his pronunciation of Goku's saiyan name, the composed words of the Namek seemed to have some effect on the prince, as the choke-hold he had on Trunks's neck loosened and was abruptly gone, leaving the purple haired demi to fall hard onto the unforgiving desert ground.

"Talk brat. Do **not **continue to try my patience." Vegeta raised his voice slightly over a particularly large explosion from the direction of the Ice-jin's space ship. His gaze grew momentarily preoccupied before snapping back to attention with an even more furious glare for the boy in the dust at his feet.

Trunks didn't take his eyes from the short-tempered royal's face, despite the occasionally shaking ground and distractingly high energy he now knew as Goku's. Partly because he didn't dare to, partly because he wouldn't back down from the man's challenging gaze; but mainly because he was fascinated by this man who would one day be his father.

He stood slowly, picking himself up _very _carefully...  
-When faced with a wild animal you make no sudden moves.  
The same is true of pissed off royalty.

He felt the group's eyes on him as he dusted off his slightly shaking hands on dustier black jeans and straightened his favourite jacket. He was being stupid. He shouldn't feel so nervous about talking to these guys, but all the stories his mother had told him of the, "Earth's Special Forces" came back to him as he allowed his attention to wander around the assembled warriors.

There was Tien, looking at him with suspicion in all three slanted eyes.

He spotted Chaotzou floating behind the triclops like the small freaky shadow his mom had always said he was.

Yamcha, the scar-faced bandit who could easily have been his father.

The short guy must be Krillin, the little ex-monk Bulma always counted in her top 3 friends and life-long annoyances.

There was no mistaking the great green Piccolo, the once-demon his mother had never really trusted since he'd so gleefully killed her best friend.

And staring curiously at him from the namekian's side: Gohan. Still a small boy, but who he knew would grow to be a great man someday. His eyes rested on the oddly-dressed kid for a second, wondering if Vegeta had forced him to wear such a saiyan-looking battle-outfit or if Gohan had inherited Goku's, um… "interesting" dress sense, before redirecting his attention to his parents.

His mother stood with her arms crossed, glaring with all her considerable might at the saiyan warrior before her. She was wearing a striped dress so short it almost made him blush again. Weird to think his mom was young once… but the ferocious scowl she was directing at his future father was one of many that would leave tiny wrinkles around her undiminished blue eyes in years to come. He almost smiled. She always said she'd hated his royal pain-in-the-tush's guts. Both for his attitude and the premature aging she placed squarely on his shoulders. His gaze returned to the rump-pain.

The pink shirted rump-pain; the pink shirted rump-pain who seemed to have been quietly seething to himself whilst Trunks had taken in their assembling company. He was waiting for an answer wasn't he? Oh well, here goes….

"I…I can't tell you"

Luckily, "Pastel Boy", as he was already thought of in Vegeta's head, had figured his Father wouldn't appreciate this answer and caught the fist that flew at his face.

But only just.

"_Vegeta_!"

It seems even the threat of charred shoes couldn't keep Bulma's tongue under wraps for long. Trunks watched with a fear born of long experience as his mother _stomped_, hands clenched into fists by her sides, over to his father. All the while breathing steadily and deeply through flared nostrils. Not, as the casual observer might suspect, to calm herself and get her infamous temper under control: but to make sure she had enough oxygen for when she started screaming.

His father actually disengaged his fist from Trunks's grip and turned around stiffly to glare straight back at the approaching woman. Probably recognising a real threat when he saw it.

Trunks wanted to warn Vegeta that facing Bulma when she was like this was _really_ not a good idea. One thing Trunks had learned over the years of living with his temperamental mother was that when she had _that_ look in her eyes, and was hyperventilating like _that_, he was in a shitload of trouble. There was nothing left to do but take cover and hope nothing important got broke.

That, and the fact she was _unholy_ loud when she was pissed. Trunks managed to cover his ears just as his would-be-Mother let loose.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL KAMI-DAMNED **LITTLE TROLL**! WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM? I HAVE HALF A MIND TO SLAP YOU YOU LITTL-"

"WHO'RE YOU CALLING** _LITTLE_** YOU DEMENTED SCREECHING HARPY! ONE MORE WORD OUT OF THE SHRIEKING CAKEHOLE YOU CALL A MOUTH AND I BLOW THIS ENTIRE FUCKING PLANET TO THE NEXT DIMENSION!"

"YEAH GO AHEAD AND TRY IT BRAINIAC! YOU'D GO WITH US SO WHY DON'T YOU JUST SHOVE IT UP YOUR-"

Trunks was starting to feel, well, kinda glad he didn't have much experience with "family" life.

His parents were now less than 3 feet apart screaming insults and threats right in each other's faces. How the hell had he been the result of _this_ kinda relationship? His mom had her eyes screwed shut and was screaming words at his father that would make a sailor blush crimson. Vegeta was slowly losing control over his carefully suppressed ki and was starting to glow slightly around the edges … This was _so_ not good.

Trunks took a few steps back and cast his eyes over the rest of the Z fighters again. Apart from Piccolo who was clutching his ears and groaning in agony, they were all staring with rapt attention at the scene made by the Dignified Saiyan Prince and the Dainty Mechanical Genius. It had quickly lowered to simple name calling….

"NAUSEATING SHRIEKING HARRIDAN!"

"PSYCHOPATHIC LITTLE MONKEY!"

"NARCISSISTIC KONOYARRO!"

"ANAL-RETENTIVE PIG!"

"REPULSIVE WENCH!"

"EGOTISTIC DICK!"

"BRAIN-DEAD!"

"HALF-PINT!"

"FAT-ASS!"

"FREAK!"

"BITCH!"

"JERK!"

"SLUT!"

"_ASS_!"

This was getting dangerous, (he knew it was only a matter of time before his mother started throwing things) and giving him a headache, though it was interesting to note Bulma was freely using words and phrases she'd expressly forbidden him to even think. Kami, they were getting even louder! How was that even possible? Definitely time to retreat and regroup.

The purple haired teen kept his hands clamped firmly over his ears -for all the good that did- as he performed an overlooked departure behind a nearby rock outcropping. He was relieved to find the noise level slightly lowered behind the basalt shield and cautiously released his ears.

Thank Kami, now he could at least think.

_:I am _**so**_ dead. If my father doesn't get me for insurrection against the high throne of Vejitasei, Mom'll decapitate me the moment she finds out just how badly I messed up the timeline… that is, assuming, my head doesn't implode from the nuclear temper-tantrums my parental units are throwing, and the planet doesn't shake itself apart from Goku's energy. Y'know now that I can actually think about it…Perhaps being able to think about it isn't such a great thing after all…:_

Trunks sighed and looked down at the calloused hands resting on his crossed legs. He realised now that some of the acoustic pressure had been lifted that not all of his budding headache was being caused by his thunderous parents; the throbbing ache he felt right at the base of his skull had a lot more to do with Goku's shrieking power level.

Kami… he'd never felt anything quite as huge.

But it wasn't just the quantity of the energy causing his brain to feel like it was being pressure-cooked; it was the quality. How it felt in his head. The anger Trunks had first sensed at Goku's appearance was nothing, _nothing_ compared to the jagged emotion he felt sawing across the man's ki now. The energy the saiyan was putting out was harsh and ragged and sharp around the boundaries of it, giving the terrifying impression that Goku was barely holding onto the brittle edges of the forces coursing through him. Just sensing that much energy was like having a screwdriver slowly embedded between cerebral lobes, Kami knows what it must be like to have that amount of -almost wild- power burning through your veins, but he couldn't imagine it was a very comfortable experience.

Taking a few deep breaths, Trunks tried to close off that part of him that could pick up other's life-forces. He felt a momentary twinge of gloom as he realised he wouldn't be able to sense the millions of bustling humans anymore.

_: ah well, I can't feel them anyways.:_

It was true. At the moment trying to pick out the tiny human kis was like trying to spot a faint star whilst the sun was going super-nova. He went completely still for a few minutes whilst he clamped down on that element of his mind, until Goku's blazing ki level was nothing more than a mild itch, a thrumming toothache of the mind, something he could easily ignore.

Ah, blessed quiet. Now that he had that under control and his parents were far enough away not to be puncturing his eardrums he could figure out how to sort this out logically and with the minimum amount of fuss and with no-one else finding out about him and somehow fixing this screwy reality while he was at it and still making it so Goku doesn't get dead from some stupid heart virus andthat he himself still existed and making sure the androids don't take over this world as well and making sure Goku didn't actually go super nova and pop before he could catch any stupid heart viruses… and, and…. Okay _breathe. _Now, how the hell was he gonna do all that?

Kami, why did he have to do this on his own? He couldn't handle all this. He wished his mother was here to guide him. He wished even more that Gohan was here. Gohan would've sorted all this out in an instant, he wouldn't've bolloxed the mission up this bad this early on…He'd have known what to do…

His recovering ears picked up the movement of small feet stumbling over to his position. He looked over to see the subject of his ponderings, well kinda, rubbing his ears after the vicious assault they had just endured. He couldn't believe how kawaii Gohan had been as a chibi! The mane of hair reaching half-way down his back was obviously a saiyan trait, whilst the impeccable manners the kid was displaying was definitely a Chichi thing. On catching sight of the weird purple-haired guy sitting amongst the rocks the mini Gohan had immediately dropped a waist-bow and was currently stammering an apology for walking in on his aural retreat.

:_Kawaii!_:

"s…sorry for disturbing you. I didn't realise there was anyone round here! Honest! I j-just wanted to get away from the noise! I'll just go.. don't you mind m-"

"They're pretty loud aren't they?"

"h'uh?"

Trunks was chuckling madly to himself on the inside, amazed his sensei had ever been _this_ clueless. The kid had _bowed_ at a supposed enemy instead of adopting a defensive pose! How trusting could ya get? And the _look_ on the kid's face at the moment! He only let a small smile escape and surface on his face though, he didn't want to freak the lil chibi out by giggling at him…

"Bulma, Vegeta. Loud. Very, very loud, I never realised two people could make quite that much noise. They should brand it a new attack or something, it's certainly got Piccolo floored."

"hehe, yeah. They're, um…deadly." Gohan was still nervously backing up the way he'd come, one hand behind his head in a pose Trunks recognised from a half-dozen photos as the "Classic Nervous Son". But just before he made it back around the rock outcropping was abruptly stopped by a chunk of local stone flying dangerously close to his head.

"….STAY _STILL_ YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I'M GONNA NAIL YOU T'THE FLOOR!"

"HAHAHAHahahaha! WHAT'S THE MATTER ONNA? HASN'T THE BANDIT BEEN AROUND TO GIVE YOU ANY TARGET PRACTISE? GUESS SCARFACE FOUND SOMEONE BETTER TO ROLL! _**AGAIN**!_ AHAHAHAH–_oof!_"

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Gohan sweatdropped.

"I think she got him" he said, voice deadpan as he leaned back to look round the last of his stone shield at the belligerent pair.

He turned his gaze slowly back to the purple haired stranger sitting quietly under the rock overhang, looking back at him with big curious blue eyes; then once more at the chaos that had erupted around his gathered friends; and seriously considered just which situation would really be worse for his health. Sitting with an unknown, possibly hostile, incredibly powerful super-saiyan; or going back into the Briefs/Ouji war zone.

Shrugging, he walked over to the young supersaiyan and plopped himself down beside him. Relieved to find the rock overhang added further shielding to the yells of the entire z-senshi as they tried to keep Vegeta pinned and convince him it would be a very bad idea for him to Big Bang Bulma. Judging by the shouts and muffled swearing he could still make out they weren't doing a very good job of it.

"Are they always like that?"

Gohan looked over at the stranger as he abruptly broke the complete and utter lack of silence. He didn't seem all that bad, his ki didn't feel evil either…and he seemed genuinely interested in the two atrociously loud warring beings in the background.

"um, well, actually… I, I don't really know. My mom won't let me around Bulma too often- she doesn't really approve, and when Vegeta was at capsule corp. she barely let me go round there at all."

"What's your mom got against Bulma? I think she's pretty cool to be honest." Why was it that Trunks sounded slightly…insulted? Almost, Gohan couldn't quite put his finger on it…protective?

The little chibi chuckled nervously, "I know! I don't get it either, mom just said," Gohan forced his voice higher and made it go as nasal as he could manage, "…'she's a bad influence Gohaaan! I don't approve of somehow who walks around in skirts _that _short at _her_ age! Now go study your statistics and geometry!'…

Trunks seemed to almost raise a single purple eyebrow at the impromptu impression of Mrs Son Chichi. Gohan couldn't tell if he was impressed or simply embarrassed at the fact he'd just made himself sound like a rabid chipmunk for no apparent reason. Only someone who actually knew his mother would realise just how accurate his impression was.

Gohan forced himself not to let out the embarrassed chuckles building in his throat, coughed slightly in awkwardness, and continued talking. Heh… maybe the super-saiyan hadn't noticed anyways…..

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Trunks almost raised a single eyebrow at the impromptu impersonation of Mrs. Son Chichi. Gohan sounded almost exactly like a rabid chipmunk. The boy was pretty damn good.

_:not bad, at least, that was a pretty accurate impression of the Chichi in my time! I suppose she isn't any more chilled in her youth then.:_

"er…hehe, yeah, anyways, I've never seen them fighting for this long before. They usually get sick of each other, or get bored of thinking up original insults, or their throats get sore... I don't really know. They just end up going their separate ways in really, _really _bad moods. Bulma's not so bad after, she'll go and take her frustrations out on whatever it is she inventing, just don't bug her and ya gotta watch out for explosions. But Vegeta, well, Vegeta goes to find a "sparring partner", heh, I think that's Veggie-speak for punching bag. After the first time he did this with me I came home with so many bruises my mom refused to let me go there anymore. Kinda sad. Even after Vegeta left to find my Dad she wouldn't let me go over. I haven't been round and seen everyone for at least six months. I, err, guess my mom can get a little over-protective at times…"

_:Gods, "over-protective"? That's a bit of an understatement….:_

Gohan continued his nervous rambling while Trunks spared a thought for the enigma that was the boy's mother.

Son Chichi was, quite simply, one of the most confusing people he'd ever met.

At one moment a warm and loving person you could go to about almost anything, perhaps the most ideal mother-figure you could find. At others, almost fanatical in the conviction that her way **-_was the only way-_,** that Gohan should give up this fighting nonsense and settle down with a nice girl and give her some grandchildren, that this whole "android problem" would sort itself out. Seemed delusional at times actually….

"…so I guess that's why I never noticed you around there. You're just arrived here, right? I'm pretty sure I would have noticed if another saiyan had been living at CapCorp whilst I'd been going over there!"

"H'uh, wha..waddya mean? I don't live in the CC!" How on earth had Gohan linked him so quickly to his mother's company? What was he talking about while he'd zoned out? WHY did he always manage to zone out on the important bits?

" But then why have you got one of their work jackets? They only issue those to their mechanics and tech people, and people Bulma particularly likes. And how did you know Vegeta and Bulma's names if not from Capsule Corp? I thought you must have known Vegeta, or that he'd found you when he was space and dragged you back here; I mean, he usually only gets _that _mad at people he knows and personally hates…strangers he'll just blast. And you knew to get out the way when Bulma started with her ranting! You have to know them!"

Gohan was giving him a calculating look. It was a direct Piccolo hand-me-down, the "I'm assessing a new enemy" look that His Gohan would give whatever new and interesting training bot his grandfather could come up with. It hurt Trunks's heart a little to see that look from someone he still considered -despite being dead and not really the same person in the first place- to be his best friend.

"I, uh, saw them in the papers once! Yeah, Bulma invented the…err, thing a few months ago and I just recognised her from the press release!"

Damnit. That was appalling.

Trunks winced. That was _really_ appalling.

But then, he'd always been crap at lying to his sensei. Figures it would hold true in this dimension as well. And he hadn't even given his old jacket a thought, the logo on the side had virtually worn away over the years, as the CapsuleCorporation itself had. Damn his sensei for always noticing those little details!

"Bulma never lets her picture into the papers. She says she's so brilliantly beautiful that it would attract crazies who'd come after her in the street. And that doesn't explain how you could possibly know Vegeta, he's only just gotten back from deep space! Or, how you know Piccolo for that matter. You're….you're lying." Gohan said softly, almost as though he was afraid he'd angered the strange man with his accusation.

Trunks was disappointed to see his future sensei had moved about half a foot further away from him and had turned his body to look at Trunks, a disapproving little frown on his face. He looked slightly confused that Trunks hadn't told him the truth. Ah, to be young and innocent again.

The time-traveller sighed another weary breath and looked at his hands, still lying lax on the knees of his crossed legs. Still looking innocent, as though they didn't have the power to blow up the entire planet with one wrong move. He owed a lot to his Gohan, and he couldn't bring himself to lie to _this_ Gohan. He could lie easily. He was usually quite good at it, very believable when he wanted to be (a lifetime of convincing his mother of his, "innocence" gave him good opportunity for practise). But, he didn't like lying to Gohan. It was just wrong. Without Gohan he'd never have started training. Never have been able to generate, let alone control, the powers he had today. Never have gained a fighting chance against even one android. He owed Gohan, any Gohan, the right to the truth. He sighed again and looked up into the near-blackness of the child's eyes.

"Okay Gohan. Here's the truth. I know their names because I know them from the future. I'm a time traveller. My name's Trunks and I've come back almost two decades to warn everyone about a terrible danger that's gonna come to earth in about three years. I didn't really want to tell anyone this because I haven't been born yet. And the more people who know who I am the more likely it is I never _will_ be born."

Trunks _almost_ let his eyes return to staring at his suddenly interesting hands. He really didn't want to see just what his future sensei made of that. WHY had he told him? It was too harsh, too brief, he'd never believe it, he'd think he was crazy! But Trunks made himself stare straight into the boy's face and gauge how he reacted…

Gohan looked…troubled.

Once the words "time traveller" and "future" had fallen out of his mouth with greater ease than he'd expected, Gohan's expression became slightly withdrawn. The look was one he knew his Gohan to wear only at times of extreme puzzlement… sometimes when he'd been working out some kink in the very time machine that had brought him here, but more often when looking at the result of Bulma's cooking and trying to decide just what poor animal it might once have been. Even geniuses got stumped sometimes y'know.

_:Gods that's a relief…he hasn't run away screaming and I've yet to see the, "Great, I'm sitting next to a crazy-person" look. Maybe I can actually convince him! It'd be brilliant if I could, maybe he can help me talk to Goku, maybe a second person in on the secret isn't so bad… he can make sure Goku remembers when the androids are gonna show up,remind him to lookafter the medicine…and maybe Goku would calm down abit if it's his own son talking to him…:_

"...is, is that how you knew Frieza was gonna be here? Cuz you're from the future and it's already happened in your time?"

:YES!_ Questions! If he's questioning he's open to the idea! Now I've just gotta play this right and I could have another ally in this dimension…:_

"yeah. I knew that both Frieza and your Dad would show up in this desert today. I never planned on fighting Frieza though, I thought Goku would get here a lot quicker, deal with Frieza and then I could a have a chat with him alone about the future and stuff."

_: and of course I never expected the saviour of the planet to go fucking schizo on me and become so bloody unapproachable…:_ Trunks muttered within the confines of his own head. He had the sense not to insult the chibi's dad in the middle of gaining his trust though.

Gohan lifted his eyes to stare at Trunks through his fringe of heavy black bangs. Trunks couldn't help but be hit with how young Gohan looked here. Like he needed protecting from the world.

"what's so bad that you had to come back through _time_ to tell my Dad about? Frieza's no match for him, obviously, and there's no-one out there who could possibly rival a super-saiyan, I may not have believed much of Vegeta's usual ranting but I think he's right about that."

There was quiet for a moment, a heart-beat. Trunks finally let his head hang between his shoulders, clasping his hands together as he debated with himself what to tell the boy.

_:Gods, he is still just a boy isn't he...:_

All the shit Gohan had been through in his short time made him act older than any 7 year-old had a right to. Did he really need to know that he had only three years left of his peculiar childhood? To not worry? To play and laugh and not wonder if there was some crazed robot hiding behind every ruined building waiting to take his head off? But if things turned out for the worst as they had in Trunk's time, then Gohan deserved more than anyone the chance to try and change his twisted fate. But what if the kid told Bulma or Veg…

_:No, I know I can trust Gohan. He's not my Gohan, but the core is the same person. Someone I can trust. And if anything, He deserves a warning. I might as well start at the beginning. This boy has a right to know what brand of hell's in store for him…:_

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The supersaiyan, Trunks, the… time traveller?... was silent for just long enough for Gohan to realise it might be something he shouldn't have asked. Maybe he wasn't supposed to know? He said he'd wanted to talk to his Dad _alone. _What if it was private? Gods he didn't wanna embarrass Trunks! He'd only just met him he didn't want to get things off badly alrea…

"It'll start in a little less than two years."

"H'uh?" Gohan was surprised out of his thoughts by Trunks's voice. Perfectly audible despite the fact he wasn't looking at Gohan and seemed intent on talking to his own knees.

"What will?"

"The rumours. Listen to the news over the next few months and you might hear little pieces about some fuss with the military, I think it's some guy called General Oreoco, trying to force through an act for bio-weapon funding. It's pretty far-out stuff, the usual eco-warriors kick up a helluva fuss over it. In any case, they get the act. They do their little experiments, they develop a new virus and begin testing it. The rumours are gonna start in about two years about how the disease has escaped into the general population."

Gohan knew the man Trunks was talking about. He'd seen the squat, irritable Secretary General on TV a few days ago when rallyists had lobbied his headquarters. _He _was what brought someone back across TIME so they could be warned? Not some crazy megalomaniac? Not some unfathomably strong enemy? A Bad-tempered soldier with a height complex?

"You mean after all the monsters we've battled and all the…the, the _shit _we've been through trying to protect the earth, everyone's gonna die because of some stupid general and a bad case of FLU? You're _kidding _me!"

Gohan saw Trunks continue to look down at his crossed legs. He could just make out he was wearing a sad little smile. Like he was half wishing that _was_ it.

It made Gohan nervous… he knew what that kind of smile meant. His mother often wore that same expression when he presented her with his "finished" homework….it meant the worst was yet to come.

"No Gohan, not _everyone _dies of this virus. The illness _is_ a particularly nasty one -nothing like the Flu by the way, it's more of a heart virus- but it gets way more publicity than it truly deserved as it was nearly impossible to successfully contract. When it does get free into the population I think less than 500 people on the entire planet actually die of it- and I'm pretty sure that's an over-estimate…" He trailed off, as though reluctant to continue.

"But then why? I don't think it counts as a world-wide emergency if only a few hundred people die from it. Moredie everydayfrom malaria! Why did you really come back in time?" Gohan knew he sounded perplexed. He really felt it. He knew there was more that Trunks had yet to tell him. He desperately wanted to hear it, what was the catch? What was really gonna happen? He had to know!

Why wouldn't he just say it? What could make Trunks so reluctant to tell him?

"It's not the only thing I came back to warn you about. The virus's escape simply marks the beginning of the end.Because, because one of those few people who caught it, and died of it, was your father."

Trunks raised his head at long last and pinned Gohan with his pure-blue eyes. Gohan saw the silent regret in them before Trunks's words had fully registered. As though Trunks could apologise for something he had no control over, or for simply telling him his Dad was gonna die. Of a Virus. His Dad was gonna die. Of a heart virus. His invincible Dad was gonna die in less than three years. Of a _heart virus…._

"WHAT! NO WAY! My Dad's way too strong to die of some stupid disease! He's a super-saiyan! He's the strongest guy in the whole world, he's not gonna die, he _couldn't _die of some stupid lil cold! You're wrong! You're lying! You're craz-"

"Gohan calm down and look at me! I'm not lying and I'm not crazy! Yes you're Dad is strong! I can feel that! It's hard to miss when his life force feels like someone's trying to give me a fucking lobotomy with a blunt toothpick! But even he has weaknesses. And in my time, he catches the disease, he fights its active form for far longer than anyone thought was possible, but in the end…" Trunks sighed, sounding defeated, the forced calm in his voice disappearing as he finished in almost a whisper , "…in the end it's just too much. It couldn't be stopped. We couldn't save him. The virus killed him. It was natural. He couldn't be brought back."

_:Why's he telling me this? Oh gods, Dad can't die again I only just got him back. He just can't, it hurt so much when he died fighting Radditz, he just can't die. He can't leave me again…:_

Gohan shivered slightly in memory of the odd empty feeling he had felt when his daddy had died fighting Radditz. It was so wrong. Gods it was hard to explain the strangely appalling _ache _his father's death had caused…

He'd always thought of his mind as a vast sprawling house. (2) There were different levels to it, floors with many different winding and confusing passages between them, there were parts he couldn't go in, some parts that were still dark and unused, some rooms of his mind he had filled meticulously with the academic knowledge his mother had helped him accumulate through out his life. There were some so filled with random crap it was impossible to sort through it. There was one place though where, sometimes, he could feel his father. Vaguely. It was as if he could feel his father in the next room, not quite make him out, but sometimes hear soft murmurings he recognised might be his Dad's voice.

When his father had…had died fighting he'd been unconscious. When he'd woken it was as though that room in the rambling house of his mind had suddenly been locked up. Badly. And the jammed door had splintered and sharded at the strength it had been forced shut with, leaving sharp aches across the expanse of his conscious. And shadows. Shadows that throbbed gently and crept outwards from were his father had been shut out of his mind, cracking and undermining the surrounding walls of his psyche.

He'd known the moment his father had been revived when he'd felt that door suddenly open again. Felt his father's, not quite presence, but the idea of him, his core become clear again in his mind. Instantly chasing away the terrible shadows and fixing the cracks throughout his sprawling mind-mansion.

It's why he'd never lost hope of his Dad coming home. He'd known his father couldn't have died on Namek when he felt the door remain resolutely open.

But for the last few months he'd felt… something.

Not the same as having that part of his mind he had labelled "Daddy's place" closed off from him, but as though someone had pulled the blinds and shattered the lights there. He knew, _knew, _his Dad was still there, but he couldn't hear him at all anymore.

The…shadows, had been creeping back again.

It felt so dark in there now.

Wrong.

So very wrong.

He was starting to think it was almost as bad as when Goku actually _had _died…

If Gohan hadn't been so absorbed in his morbid thoughts he might have noticed that the time traveller looked slightly panicked. Trunks had obviously seen the distraught look that had invaded the chibi's face, steadily worsening till it looked as thought the boy was about to either burst into tears or punch him.

"Gohan, Gohan listen, please don't be upset. I shouldn't have told you like that, that was way too blunt. Yes your Dad dies in MY time, but that's why I came back! To save him! A few years after he died, we managed to synthesise a cure to the disease! Please don't be upset! All he's gotta do is take a few of these when the active form is on him and he'll be absolutely fine!"

Trunks scrabbled in his jeans, awkward in the sitting position to get to his pockets, and held up a small vial of dark purple pills. They were so few of them, barely enough to fill his seven year old palm. Gohan felt his mood cautiously lift, his attention instantly caught and turned from his internal contemplation.

"Really? These'll save him? You're sure?" Oh gods he needed Trunks to be telling the truth about this antidote, almost as much as he wished the older boy was lying about the virus itself.

"Can I see it?" Trunks looked at him guardedly, "…Please?"

He just, wanted to make sure they were real. Ok, a little childish. But he just…needed to feel them in his fingers. He was unduly pleased when Trunks carefully handed him the tiny labelled container.

Gohan held the small vial in his hand. It just, it just seemed so small…but it could save his Dad. WOULD save his Dad from the horrible fate Trunks had predicted him. His small hand closed resolutely around the precious capsule, feeling the grooves of the lid dig into his palm as he looked straight up at the time traveller. Any lingering doubts of the purple haired boy's origins resolutely dispelled.

"Tell me what to do. How do I help him fight this? What did you mean by "active form?". When does he actually catch it?"

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This wasn't really what he'd been expecting.

Flat out rejection? Most likely.

Reluctant acceptance? A possibility he'd tentatively considered.

This eager reception? This desperation to hear his near unbelievable story? Hadn't even crossed his mind. He wasn't entirely sure how to continue.

"Well, okay. If you think it'll help. Um, just...well, give me a second. I wasn't gonna tell your Dad too much about this as I was pretty sure he wouldn't want to know…are you sure you do? Some of its pretty bad."

"I don't care. I want to know everything you know about what's going to happen. I want to be able to help if something goes wrong." A stubborn light burnt behind the boy's black eyes. His small mouth was set resolutely in a near-pouting line. He was dead serious about this.

Trunks puffed out his cheeks and blew an exasperated breath, rolling his eyes at his luck. Gohan didn't realise it, but this was his, "determined" look. One you could see Trunks was both gratified and mortified to see in such a situation on his young sensei's face. It was the sort of look that ended in blood running freely from stones and Donkeys walking around without any legs on.(3) He might as well just tell him.

"I guess you're right, I hadn't thought of something going wrong, but it seems more and more likely it could, I think even my coming here has skewed your timeline already." Trunks thought briefly of Goku's oddly dark eyes and continued in a slightly quieter voice.

"Who knows how much things will change?"

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Gohan saw Trunks shift slightly in his sitting position, frown a little as though thinking hard and begin telling him what he wanted to know. Gohanseemed determined to commit every word to memory, and so leaned back and let Trunks's pleasant voice carrying such unpleasant information wash over him.

"well… err, ok. The virus was developed by the military not only to kill an enemy but to, um, 'discourage' enemy activity in the first place. To do this they…they had to make its effects as awful as they could manage. I think they did pretty well.

Like I said, it's a strain of heart virus, so the virus's main target is, well, y'know, the heart. But it affects the rest of the body as well. It damages and eats away at major blood vessels throughout the body, leaving them fragile and easily ruptured when the virus goes through some of its last active stages. The main target of the virus is the natural pacemaker of a person's heart, the "SAN"- Sino-atrium-node, which is a small lump on the right side of the heart that controls the electrical signals that make the heart tissue contract and beat, ok?"

He saw Gohan nod for him to continue.

When the virus goes active the natural rhythm of the person's heart goes haywire, speeds up as though they're having a heart attack or have just decided they're hummingbirds. The highest heart-rate induced was well over 350bpm. We're not entirely sure what the real number is as the machine used to measure the victim's pulse couldn't keep up. Anyway. The virus would already have dug into and begun to weaken the muscle and tissue of the heart before the virus goes active, but with the sudden jump in heart rate the pace of tissue destruction increases exponentially. Weakened blood vessels throughout the body burst from the pressure. Then the heart itself ruptures.

The virus has run it's course when the victim's heart has literally burst in his chest."

Trunks had been keeping a careful eye on his tiny master as he continued to spell out exactly what the heart virus entailed with every scrap of medical knowledge he'd picked up from his mother. Not a lot, granted. But hopefully enough that his young friend would be cushioned by the professional delivery and not be truly thinking about his father's possible fate.

_:Oh crap I don't think it's working. He looks way too pale, even for a Son.:_

Gohan had grimaced once before he managed to school his features into an inert mask. Still too damn pale though…

"How could anyone _want _to do something like that to someone? What kind of sicko thought this thing up?" Gohan's voice was little more than a whisper, carrying with it a badly concealed strain of distress. Gods, he KNEW he shouldn't of told the boy this much!

"Look Gohan, you really don't need to kn…"

"NO! Tell me! WHY did they let it escape if it's so bloody awful? What do you mean 'when it goes active'? Trunks I've got to know! Please. I can't let my Dad die again. I just can't! and I need all the help I can get if I'm gonna be of any use to fight this."

Trunks looked at the desperation on Gohan's face. He really thought this would help? There was nothing he could tell the boy that would save his father if he caught the virus, the only hope was the antidote… but the timeline was already so different already…

"…okay Gohan. If you really think it'll help I'll tell you the rest of what I know just to put your mind at ease. I guess you've gathered that the disease is horrible, so horrible you'd think it should have been kept in some high security lockdown, right? It was. For the first year it was treated with all the reverence of an unexploded hydrogen bomb…but the researchers thought they had created a non-pathogenic strain, a virus that didn't affect living organisms. They didn't even know of its effects as they thought they hadn't been able to infect any specimens at all. They thought it was harmless. They got careless. Three of those working on the virus were infected with it. But they didn't know about it because of the virus's deadly peculiarity.

It _was _harmless. For a time. Utterly and completely harmless. Until the virus goes active it's an almost completely benign presence in the host's body. The viral spores work their ways into a huge number of it's victim's cells over time, they focus on the heart and blood system obviously, but can get into muscle tissue, vital organs, even the brain -_But they don't **do **anything_. They don't interfere with any of these cells' functions. Their presence is hardly detectable, by the bodies' defence system of medical science. And they multiply in such a way that the carrier shows almost no symptoms unless the active form is upon them. This is what was known as the passive stage of the infection. Sometimes thevirus will sit in a person's system and never come out of this stage, meaning that they infect others but never go through the devastating active part of the virus's attack. This is, as far as we can tell, what happens in most cases; a person will catch the disease, incubate it for maybe a few years, passing it on to perhaps a dozen people in that time, and then the virus just self-destructs. It can't sustain itself and it dies off, with the carrier none the wiser.

There is only a very slim chance of detecting the virus at this stage and no way whatsoever of combating it, the virus is too integral to each cell it's invaded to be isolated and destroyed. It's hard to tell when a person actually becomes infected, but we've estimated the passive stage lasts somewhere around one and a half to three years. My mother once worked out that thousands of people were carriers of the virus in its passive stage and never even realised.

We've never figured out just what it is that will make the virus go active, there were different circumstances and factors involved in each case we came across. Sometimes the trigger for the active stage was linked to stress, sometimes exertion, but most of the time there's no noticeable sign and the virus just erupts into its devastating active state. But we know it happens in only a tiny, tiny percentage of those we estimated were infected. It had something to do with whether the infected person had a particular genetic marker…I dunno we never really pinned it down, but I know that Goku's saiyan blood-type held something similar to the marker and makes him particularly vulnerable to it.

The infestation of the virus makes this final stage very, very brief. Before Goku's went active the record for surviving the virus in this stage was just over 8 hours. There were one or two cases where the victim died withina few minutesof showing active symptoms. People thought they'd just had heart attacks and it wasn't until autopsy that it was proved otherwise.

Before we developed the antidote, no-one who'd ever been recorded as suffering the active stage had survived it."

Gohan sat stunned for a moment. Taking in what Trunks had said. He'd regained some of his colour but still looked as though he'd been given the shock of a life. Well, he had, hadn't he?

Finally, he nodded again at the sword-wielding saiyan to continue. "This antidote plays on one of the virus's only weaknesses. Within a few minutes of going active each viral spore gives out a kind of communication chemical. This makes them identifiable, it makes them vulnerable. This antidote will eradicate every single _active_ viral spore within your Dad's body. It…it takes a while to flush out all the spores, for all of them to go active and become identifiable, but the antidote, if taken at the right time, _will _work. If he takes this he will live and history will be drastically changed."

Gohan's expression had been completely swapped. He looked ecstatic, Trunks now guessed he was in more danger of being hugged than of being punched…

"I shouldn't be doing this Gohan. Time is not something you mess with lightly, I have no idea just how much my simply being here has screwed up what will happen in the next few years. History might already be changing." a hard look overcame the older boy's face, "But Some History _should _change."

"My Dad doesn't deserve to die like that Trunks. No-one does."

An amused smirk. "True. But if that were really so, I'd be going after the men who're gonna create this virus and stop it being released in the first place. But even I realise that would alter the timelines too much, even saving one life like this will change the future greatly. You see Gohan, I didn't come back simply to save Goku, by keeping Goku alive over the next 3 years, it should hopefully save the entire planet."

"H'uh?"

"We need your father's strength Gohan.Three years from now the real fun is gonna start.Three months after your dad dies of the heart virus in my time, the shit well and truly hits the fan. May 12th at 10am, on an island nine miles west of South City, two horrible monsters appear. They're unlike anything you've ever seen before Gohan. They're, they're horrible. Totally ruthless, unnatural and unfeeling killing machines.

Androids.

Artificial human life with the power to destroy_ all_ life on this planet. They are the creations of an old enemy of your dad's; Gero, Dr Gero. And their only purpose for being created was to kill Goku and act out Dr Gero's revenge upon him. But these androids are so despicable that their first actions after being activated were to kill Dr Gero and destroy his lab where they were created. With Goku still warm in his grave, no parameters left on their mission and no one to tell them what to do, they go on a killing spree that is probably going to last until every human on earth is dead. I've lived with it my whole life, always running and hiding, no-where's safe from them! Living on earth in my time is like living in a nightmare! I'm trying _so hard_… but it's two against one and, gods, I'm just no match for them both."

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Trunks bowed his head again. Some strong emotion…Shame?...Making him break eye-contact. No, that wasn't quite it, or at least not all of it. Loneliness. Gohan could feel the loneliness and despair seeping out of the boy before him. It must have been truly awful. Born to a world already slipping into utter chaos and being the only hope of its meagre population. But surely he wasn't… he wasn't fighting _alone_?...

"But, what about the others? Why aren't they helping you?" Gohan felt his voice shake slightly even as he said this. It wasn't right to fight on your own. Saiyan instinct insisted fighting in a pack made you stronger, Z-fighter experience reinforced the notion. The earth's defenders never left one of their own to fight solo. There could only be one possible reason the others weren't helping…

"They're, they're all gone aren't they? The androids... they must've…"

Gohan trailed off even as he pinned the time-traveller with a desperate look. Asking, begging him to correct him. Say that he was wrong. That they were all doing some kind of super-secret training and getting stronger…

"They're all gone Gohan. Everyone died the first day the androids appeared. First Piccolo, so we couldn't even wish anyone back with the dragonballs, then Vegeta, Krillen, Yamcha, Tien, Chaotzou…everyone. They all died in that first battle. Except you.

Everyone died, except you. You, my mother and I, were the only ones to face the androids who survived. I was still a baby when it happened, but as soon as I was old enough, you began to train me. You helped me get to where I am today, you taught me how to use the power I had to help people, you taught me how to go super-saiyan. _You _were the reason I became a super-saiyan in the first place."

_:I'm a super-saiyan? I become a super-saiyan? I thought Dad was the only one capable of it? Wasn't that what Vegeta was ranting about for months? How Kakkarot had, "stolen his birthright" yadda yadda yadda? But if Trunks can be a super-saiyan, _**I**_ can be a super-saiyan, …. :_

"Then how come I'm, I mean the future-me, isn't here? How come you and me haven't destroyed the androids?"

There was a pause at this that worried Gohan. He was already getting to recognise some of Trunks's habits, and pausing to collect his thoughts and put off something particularly unpleasant was, unfortunately, one he recognised he was using right now. Trunks's voice was weak when he finally spoke. And he refused to even look up at him, preferring to once again pin his knees with his blue stare.

"Because, almost two years ago now, my time, the androids found you when you were weak, still recovering from an injury, and, and they killed you. I knew I could never defeat the androids on my own; you'd been way stronger than me and still been defeated. So my only choice was to wait until my mother finished the time machine, it took much longer than she'd expected without your help, and then to come back and try to change all of this before it happens. I can't let it happen again Gohan... I **won't **let it happen again."

That was it.

Right there.

There was the cherry on the top of the pile of shit Gohan's poor abused consciousness had had to process. Gohan's mind stalled momentarily from the huge intake of quite simply appalling prophecy.

His Dad was gonna die. The z-fighters would be incinerated in the course of a single battle. The earth was doomed. _He _was doomed. He was gonna die. He was gonna die fighting _Androids_.

For one as young as Gohan, he had an uncanny grasp of how fragile a mortal's hold on life was. Having been faced with the threat of his own death and those of his friends so many times, he knew how close life and death were, especially to a group like the z-fighters. But to actually _hear_ it was so different.

He was gonna die.

He was gonna be killed in a battle.

With androids.

He'd never have a chance to live in peace, to spar and play with his Dad all day, to raise a family of his own, to try and get Mr. Piccolo to laugh out loud for once, to become the scholar his mom so desperately wanted him to become, or the scientist super-hero he secretly had always wanted to be, wait a sec…

"You mean I helped make a _time_ _machine_? COOL! How on earth does it work? Wait, I work on it with your _MOM_? When do I get to meet you mother? Who is she? Is she some kinda cool galactic saiyan with purple hair? When does she crash land here? Do we have to fight her like we did with Vegeta and Nappa or is she really nice and wanna help us straight off?"

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Trunks felt his face flush again. Oh great, he'd gone red again. Hideously, vibrantly, clashingly red. It just wasn't fair! Anytime he got even a little bit embarrassed he turned the exact shade of rouge that clashed distractingly with his fair purple hair. You'd think life would cut him some slack with the shit he had to deal with normally, some things just weren't fair.

"Erm… actually, all full-Saiyans have naturally dark colourings, I got my hair and eye colours from my mom's human side. I get my saiyan blood from my dad."

Gohan slowly lifted one eyebrow. "You mean… we're brothers?"

"NO! no, heh, Goku's not my Dad! There's more than one saiyan left on earth you know…"

There was a split second where Trunks could actually see Gohan counting the full-saiyans apart from his father that he knew. Blanching. Counting them again and coming up with the same answer.

"VEGETA? Vegeta's your _Dad_! Oh wow, I can't believe it!...(snigger)…Vegeta's gonna be a daddy!"

At this point Gohan lost the plot a little.

Trunks was again struck by how young his master was in this time, couldn't _really_ miss it in the childish way he'd fallen flat out on his back, kicking his legs and clutching his sides as he laughed so hard he could hardly catch his breath. Trunks sat and watched him, letting him have a moment of mirth at his expense. The chibi deserved to let out a little tension after the stuff they'd just been talking about anyways.

Still, he didn't have to laugh quite _so _hard did he? He'd heard his dad was a little antisocial, okay, okay, according to certain unnamed blue-haired sources he was, "straight up undiluted asshole with an attitude problem", but it couldn't be that funny…could it?

Suddenly, the chibi stopped laughing: his eyes widened and he hastily scrambled to sit back up. Staring avidly at Trunks's hair, then straight into his eyes. He squinted his black-chocolate eyes a little before opening them impossibly wide. Short whisperings under his breath only just managed to carry to Trunks's ears in the still desert air, "noooo…. No _way._ You're not…she wouldn't…they absolutely hate…. she's already got Yam… Oh. My. GOD." Trunks didn't manage to catch any more of the disbelieving mutters, as the chibi had collapsed into an even harder fit of giggles.

"_BULMA_ AND VEGETA! That is _priceless!" _

Trunks quickly leant over the chortling chibi, worriedly trying to shut him up, "Gohan be quiet! Do you want everyone to hear? If my parents get wind of this it might not happen and then _I won't be born! _I don't wanna not be born! If I'm not born than I won't exist! I don't wanna not exist! _I like existing_!"

Despite Trunks's obvious desperation, and rising pitch, Gohan just couldn't stop. He brought both hands over his mouth to frantically try and muffle his continued laughter. The chibi would seem to be calming, catching his breath and stop shaking from his bottled-up mirth; then would catch sight of Trunks again and collapse even further into his childish amusement. It was starting to piss Trunks off. Letting out the tension was one thing, this was another entirely. The chibi was laughing at _him. _

"Go_han_!"

"I'm sorry, heh, sorry." The small boy pushed himself back into a sitting position on the ground, small chuckles still escaping him every now and then, despite the annoyed glare he was receiving from his fellow demi. "It's just, I can't believe those two could ever be alone in the same room long enough to make a ba…well, a _you_, without one of them killing the other."

"Well… they don't stay together long that's for sure. And I'm not entirely sure how my dad felt about my mom, I never remember meeting him, but my mom was never really all that heart-broken when he left. She missed him, yeah, when he died she was the only one who was really upset, but she talks about the rest of you guys a lot more than she talked about him. I think it was more of a….a passion kinda thing."

They sat in silence for a moment after this final prediction, going over the many important life-altering prophesies Trunks had brought his young master from such a future. Trunks, trying to remember if he'd left anything important out -he had meant this little talk to be with someone else after all- and still fuming mildly at the boy. HE was the elder now! Didn't that mean he deserved some kinda respect outta his _younger_ master?

Gohan appeared to be going over the more memorable aspects of Trunks's startling life-or-death revelations. Didn't seem at all repentant. Hm. He raised his eyes to catch Gohan looking at him with an odd mix of amusement and disgust written across his slightly-scrunched up features. He had his tongue hanging out.

" 'a passion kinda thing'? Euw Trunks. Just, eeeeeuw…"

Trunks fell over anime-style (quite impressive considering he was already sitting down) before he joined his fellow demi-human in laughing till he thought his sides were splitting. There was no hope for it, he just couldn't stay mad at Gohan. Any Gohan. When was the last time he'd laughed like this? Must've been back when _his_ Gohan was still alive. Gods his stomach hurt; the perfect sky above him blurred to a smudged blue as he laughed so hard tears fell from his eyes. He'd really missed this…

Eventually, the laughter passed. Though Trunks found he couldn't look at his newly re-found friend without breaking out into short, breathless huffs once again. He'd always known Gohan had a carefully hidden hentai-side, he'd just never imagined he'd had it for so long.

Wiping the tears from his eyes and the tear-tracks from his face he looked over again at the spandex-covered child. He could see Gohan was only just keeping control of himself, could smell his unique scent tinged with an innocence he knew his Gohan's scent had lost long ago, and in the ensuing quiet after their outbursts could just hear the tiny clatterings of the pebbles around him as he sat himself up Indian-style and proceeded to wipe the tears from his dark eyes.

_:Wait a minute… _**quiet:**

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"Trunks? Trunks what's the matter?"

Gohan had only just managed to catch his breath when Trunks abruptly stood, alert for some reason.

"What is it Tr-"

"Sshhh! Do you hear that?"

He closed his eyes and concentrated on their surroundings, pushing aside the innate thud of his still-rapidly beating heart to hear the sound of the passing wind, and the other demi's breath as it panted near silently in and out of his slightly parted lips.

Gohan was, to say the least, confused. He couldn't hear a thing.

"Hear what? It's quiet…"

"Exactly! Bulma and Vegeta have stopped fighting! Shit! Oh shit shit shit! If she's killed him I am in such deep shit! Oh Kami I have so messed up this timeline! SHIT!"

With every "shit" he uttered Trunks became more and more distraught until he launched himself into the air to peer over the top of the rocks they had been sheltering behind. He perched cautiously at the top of the rock's edge. Visibly relaxing as he caught sight of the z-fighters below him. Gohan quickly picked himself up and launched after his fellow demi, already deciding time travel was much too stressful a pursuit to appeal to him if this was how his friend reacted to every little thing.

Hovering just behind his new purple-tressed friend, Gohan's attention was caught by the sword strapped to Trunks's back, he wondered idly what good a sword would do his friend with the sort of power he possessed. The pity of this was, that he missed quite a rare occurrence, both Vegeta and Bulma were at that precise point in time, calm and almost completely in control of themselves. By the time the youngest demi's eyes had been drawn to the flat plain below him it had reverted once again to a more common state of being for the two belligerent parents-to-be.

Chaos. Utter Chaos.

It all occurred with such speed that even the purple demi-saiyan's superior eyesight had trouble keeping up with it, and Gohan hadn't been looking and as such was completely caught off guard by the sudden wall of sound that threatened to wrench him out of the sky.

One moment Gohan's assembled friends were quiet, peaceful, in some cases still fuming and casting murderous glances at unwelcome alien royalty, but on the whole stable. The next moment, pandemonium had resumed its rightful place in the order of things, Yamcha was nursing a severely bleeding hand and Piccolo had lost his turban. Gohan was understandably confused.

It's unlikely we'd be able to get an answer from any of the z-fighters either, they were just as surprised at the sudden melee they were drawn into as the demis were at its appearance. So for the curious reader's benefit, events have had to be reconstructed from an impartial point of view:

The flat reddish expanse of rock on which the gathered fighters stood was none the worse for wear after round one of the epic battle.

Bulma's minidress, matching waistcoat and hairband had not fared quite so well. Small tears criss-crossed the skirt of the striped dress, her hair was not something that should be mentioned, and her blue waistcoat had a single jagged rip straight down the back, as though someone had tried to hold her back by grabbing the nape of it and the material hadn't been up to the strain.

The saiyan prince meanwhile, looked in a much better condition. Though he was currently only wearing the one borrowed black shoe and the centre of his luridly pink shirt was smudged with earth over his stomach. In the sort of shape you'd expect a rock to make if it hit a hard surface very quickly and broke apart on painful impact.

The two combatants stood some 20 yards apart on opposite sides of the outcropping.

Vegeta stood composed, arms-crossed, apparently staring off at the far distant mountains. In reality scanning the surrounding area for his missing footwear and muttering under his breath a few choice curses in saiya-go about weak baka onnas and his inability to blast weak baka onnas due to baka Honor codes.

Bulma had not been so easy to calm. She was currently still, arms restrained by Yamcha and one of his hands firmly clamped over her mouth muffling the obscenities she had been spouting at being dragged away from her quarry. Krillin stood in front of her, gesturing wildly and trying to get her to calm down and stop scowling. She was currently ignoring him and death-staring straight over his polished dome to the source of her anger. That Smug bastard.

Piccolo stood between the two, watching them both with equal levels of suspicion. He held his turban nonchalantly in one hand as the other rubbed at his tender ears.

The situation may well have resolved itself peacefully had Vegeta not chosen that particular moment to look over his shoulder, see the restrained genius, and _smirk. _

Bulma's eyes widened momentarily, then narrowed to thin slits.

The relaxing Yamcha didn't expect his dear darling girlfriend to renew her struggles and barely managed to hang on as she bucked wildly. Krillin was taken completely by surprise, lost his balance, and fell gracelessly into the struggling couple at the precise moment Bulma sank her teeth into Yamcha's hand.

The orally abused desert bandit jerked away from the sudden pain, was promptly hit around the mid-section by a small bald projectile and, flailing, crashed into Tien. All three managed to land on Chaotzou, who had been minding his own business, sitting on a boulder some feet behind them, completely ignorant that he was going to be squashed by three very heavy martial artists.

Bulma had extradited herself from the mess she had spawned with a greater speed than her power level would deem possible, luckily missing the sudden bedlam that had erupted behind her and shoved purposefully past a shell-shocked Namekian to the alien she really wanted to give a piece of her mind.

Said alien was more than ready for her, the entire well-practised process shown earlier repeated itself in the space of a few seconds, only a cursory moment of a glaring contest took place before the insults began to blister the air once more, petty bodily harm was exacted and all hell broke lose once again.

Gohan was suddenly struck by how lucky he was with his family. When HIS mom and dad argued there was only ever one screaming, spitting, cursing participant and his Dad had gotten amazingly good at placating her before she got truly into it and used, "The Voice". The Voice was of such a pitch and frequency that Gohan, two rooms away and with a book over his head, would still cringe in pain, and Goku would go to bed on the couch with blood trickling out his poor abused ears.

His poor Dad put up with a lot. And Gohan knew for a fact that Chichi had a thing or two to say to him when he got home. Now that he was finally back, Gohan was tempted to warn him to run…

_:Hey wait a sec…where_ is_ Dad:_

Gohan turned from the suddenly insignificant fighting pair and floated up further over the mesa pile they had been perching on. Flying just high enough that he got a clear view of Frieza's space ship. And more importantly, the flat expanse of desert right before it his father had been knocking the pathetic ice-jin around in….

Panic filled him as he desperately scanned the area. Eyes darting frantically to the surrounding rock formations.

His breath caught in his throat. This couldn't be happening…not again!

It was empty.

His Dad was gone.

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A/N:

(1)A note on Pan-Galactic-Gargle-Blasters as appears in the great book, "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" if you haven't read thisthing –shame on you!- go out and grab a copy as quickly as possible!

For those of you that need reminding, the Pan-galactic-gargle blaster is a drink invented by Zaphod Beeblebrox, president of the intergalactic alliance and all round miscreant, the effect of this drink on Carbon-based lifeforms is the equivalent of,

'having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped around a large gold brick'

and can be made in the following way-

1.Take the juice of one bottle of that ol'Janx spirit

2.Pour into it one measure of water from the seas of Santriginous V3.

3.Allow three cubes of Acturian Mega-gin to melt into the mixture (it must be properly iced or the benzene is lost)

4.Allow 4 litres of Fallian Marsh gas to bubble through it

5.Over the back of a silver spoon float a measure if Quectin Hypermint extract

6.Drop in the tooth of an Algolian sun-tiger

7.Sprinkle Zamphor

8.add an olive

9.Drink, but…very carefully…

(last plug for it I promise) This book is an_ amazingly_ good read, especially if you like your humour dry as a bone. PLEASE_ don't_ go see the film they made on this recently as it is absolutely appalling and will put you off the book.

(2)the house/mind idea came from Hannibal. The good doctor Lecter has his mind arranged into a very organised house/mansion type thing, with rooms and objects linked to specific memories.

(3) In case anyone didn't get it, a persuasive/determined person could, "get blood from a stone" or "talk the hindlegs off a donkey" and a truly determined/persuasive person could then convince that legless donkey to go for a walk.

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And now to the Reviewer replies! First of all, thankyou so much to everybody who took the time to review! It just gives me a case of the warm fuzzies to know you like my story! (wait a sec, did i just say, "warm-fuzzies"? I blame Son Goku entirely. I've heardoverexposure to Son-kun can result in a slight warping of the brain...)  
So, ahem, a blanket "thx" to everyone who reviewed but also read and is keeping up with the story. I'm sorry it's taking so bloody long to write.

Shi Rurouni of the Aphrodesiac: wow. i think ya liked it! (grins). Sorry to say I _am_ planning on fixing Goku in the near future, a pity as i love that twisted side of him as well.

harukatenohu, Moonlight-6056, SSJ Naomi: thx for reviewing and hope you liked how this is all going!

Pixelgoddess: thx for the great critique! I'm glad you picked up on Goku not having any precedents to dealing with this kind of stress, and yeah, i have to say I'd join you in the assumption that Vegeta would just tell Goku to get over it if he saw how he was acting now. He's gonna be an asshole for a while so don't hold your breathe over any war-story-swapping type bonding sesh occurring!  
Little bit more saiyan torture came out this chap, but lotsandlotsa Frieza torture nxt one. (evil grin) I love my little corner of the universe, hehehe...

sq: This won't really be cleared up for a few chapters at least, but no, Goku didn't get his tail back on Namek, it grew back under Frieza's "keeping", during which time King Cold would have probably seen Goku about his space ship (e.g. in the tanks).

Hiss and You'll Be Fried : (btw, love the name) Nope, there's no way I'll let the little Ice-jin go now. He hurt poor lil Kaks, therefore, he will die a horrible flaming screaming death. (grins in a very disconcerting way)

x The Chichi Slaughter House x: You've really gotta love those tails. They're practically cute fuzzypets attached to a saiyan's back side! At least until Goku regains some control over his, till then theschizophrenic personalities are staying.

MiraiGee-Chan: hehe. thx for the review! (rummages in bomb-site of a room and comes up with a bag of Jelly-babies) Here ya go! Perfect for an evil-sugar-craver! You can bite the heads off before you eat them!

Sayain Queen, loreleithe1st: Yay! Glad you guys liked it! Thx for the reviews!

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Anyways, that's my Second official chapter out (at last). Hope everyone liked my little bit o'science from Trunks, andI really hope it all made sense. As always, sorry it all took so long, I'm a naturally s-l-o-w writer, I write and re-write everything about three times and I'm STILL not completely happy with the finished product! (disgruntled huff). I am gonna try and post what I've got here on mmorg or affnet just because i can't take ffnet's formatting anymore! It is driving me insane.

So, see ya next time, support the yaoi-liciousness out there and above all, HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS! Hope Father Christams brings you exactly what you wanted! (btw, don't bother asking for Kaks or Veg, I already got dibs.:) but leave a review and i'll consider sharing...)

Ja ne!

xx

HH

p.s. Anybody hazard a guess at the song stuck in my head for Goku's lil break down in this chap?... there's a few lines from the chorus stuck in here and there...

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